Q is for Quitting
by whumpertrooper
Summary: Sometimes, the rescuer ends up being the one in need of help. Part of my A to Z Charlie Whump Challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I would like to thank Crock, whose review inspired this fic. While it might not exactly fit the whole prompt, hypothermia plays a big enough role. This is also one of my longer fics, so prepare for more chapters ahead. Just a disclaimer, while I tried to research all the technical or medical stuff, I'm sure there will be things I got wrong. Hope you won't mind too much. Anyways, happy reading.

* * *

Charlie hated cases involving children. He had three younger brothers and every missing or hurt child just drove home the fact that he moved away and couldn't protect them anymore. That they might be facing the same dangers and he wouldn't even know about it until it was too late. Though standing in the room of an eleven year old Kyle Bradley who went missing a day ago made him think that sometimes people just can't be kept safe.

"We told this to your colleagues before, Sergeant! There's nothing missing! Kyle didn't run away, he didn't have a reason to!" the boy's father said angrily, while his wife was leaning heavily against the door to Kyle's room. Charlie understood their anger.

"I know, Mr. Bradley. And I'm sorry I'm bothering you, but I need to look through Kyle's things again to maybe find some clues."

"There is nothing to find! We went over his room last night. You should be out there looking for him!" the mother said, her voice strained and croaky, eyes red. She most likely spent the whole night crying, worrying about her son. Charlie felt for her. But he also needed to do his job, and having to contend with two desperate adults was making it a bit difficult. Luckily, that's when there was a knock on the door.

Charlie got a bit of reprieve, while the Bradleys rushed to the door, hoping it was their son or at least someone who knew about him. Charlie stepped out into the hall, partially following them. There was a plain clothed copper stationed in a car outside their house, just in case this was a case of kidnapping and they were contacted by someone. Charlie thought it was a bit useless and the cop could've been better used for the search, but it was true that the Bradley family was one of the wealthier ones and there might've been a hidden motive.

The door was opened, and Charlie heard the familiar voice.

"Eileen, Jack. I'm so sorry to hear what happened. Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

It was Blake. Charlie let out a sigh of relief. The Doc had been out of town for the last three days, visiting an old army friend in Stilton. Charlie was glad he was back though. While he usually wasn't a big fan of Blake's meddling in the cases or some of his unorthodox methods, they did pay off more often than not. And they tended to bring results much faster than the normal investigation. Seeing as there was a child's life at stake, Charlie welcomed any help.

He stepped into the hall and caught Blake's attention.

"Doc?"

"Ah, Charlie. I thought I might find you here," Blake said with a small smile and Charlie knew that he was most likely told by Lawson about his whereabouts.

"Yes. The Boss sent me out to take another look at Kyle's room. Maybe you want to join me?"

Blake nodded.

"I'll be happy to, if it's alright with you, Jack."

Mr. Bradley gritted his teeth, but then begrudgingly nodded.

"Of course. Maybe you will have more luck than the damn coppers," he growled and Eileen's breath hitched. Blake gave her a worried glance.

"Why don't you go ahead, Charlie? I'll just have a bit of chat and join you in a moment."

Charlie nodded and returned back to the room. He was hoping Blake could calm down the parents a bit, maybe even get some information out of them. In the meanwhile, he was free to roam.

It was obvious the room was searched in the last few hours. Things were thrown around haphazardly, any possible evidence long lost. But Charlie wasn't worried about that. After all, Kyle hadn't vanished from his house. He came home from school and supposedly left in the early afternoon to go meet with some friends. Those kids did indeed meet with him, but within an hour there was a row and they parted ways. Kyle stalked off, last seen heading towards his home. But he never arrived.

His parents didn't think anything about it. Not until it was time for dinner and the boy wasn't back home. They still hoped he just forgot himself, so the mother started calling around and the father drove around town, visiting all his son's friends. It was when the sun set down and there was no sign of the boy, when everyone said they haven't seen him for the last five hours, that Jack Bradley called the cops.

Since then, the whole town was in uproar. There were late night search parties organized by the local church. Plenty of volunteers searched through Ballarat. They even managed to get dogs for the search, but shortly after they caught Kyle's scent at the last place he was seen, the weather turned against them. The clouds closed over Ballarat, promising heavy rain. The visibility went down even more and the rain made it impossible to continue the search on the outskirts of the town. Even if Kyle was out there, no one would hear his calls through the storm.

Everyone was downhearted. Some volunteers stayed outside, but it was useless. No one found anything. The dogs were called off too, as the rain had washed off all traces.

It was a long night for all the officers in the Ballarat police station, volunteers and worried parents. It must've been an even longer night for Kyle if he was lost somewhere outside in that weather.

The weather wasn't cold, they haven't hit the winter season yet, but rain and night would have dropped the temperatures. There was no time to spare. So when the sun came up and the clouds had parted, the search was resumed with fervour. Charlie was out there as well, walking the streets, asking around if anyone had seen the boy. He spent all night awake and was currently running on caffeine and adrenaline. They couldn't keep looking around heedlessly. They needed a clue.

That's why Lawson sent him back to the parents. To talk to them, to look at the room in an attempt to find something. Anything.

So here he was. Looking at the photo of the boy who bore a striking resemblance to Ray when he was the same age. Dark brown hair, brown eyes and a shit eating smile. The boy looked like a rascal, in a good sense of the word. Charlie looked around the room, at the toys lying haphazardly on the floor.

There were car models, G. I. Joes. The usual children toys. What caught Charlie's eyes was the bookcase. It took up several shelves and he could see almost all the books of Jules Verne. The Lord of the Rings series had their spines broken in... it seemed they were Kyle's favourites. Most of the books were about adventures and researchers. Some were about the history of Ballarat and Australia. Not at all what Charlie would've expected an 11 year old to be interested in. He moved from the books towards the boy's desk. The kid seemed pretty talented. There were drawings lying all over the desk. Scenes of strange lands, a drawing of what Charlie assumed was a Hobbit inside some caves, with a dragon. Charlie frowned. The drawings had different scenes portrayed in them, some were just sketches. But there were a few with a common theme. A small figure walking through caves, exploring.

"Found anything, Charlie?"

Charlie jerked, turning towards the door. Blake stood there, looking much more refreshed than Charlie felt, yet still somehow weary.

"I'm not sure. Look at those drawings, Doc."

Blake walked up to the desk, putting one hand on Charlie's shoulder in greeting. He looked at the drawing Charlie was holding in his hands, then at the other ones now spread out across the desk.

"Hm. Seems like our boy has a knack for drawing."

"And for adventure. Just check out his library," Charlie said, his voice showing how impressed he was with that.

"What's your theory?" Blake asked as he eyed the book titles.

Charlie shrugged.

"I don't have one exactly. But... what if we have this all wrong? What if the kid just got into a tiff with his friends and decided to wander off for a little bit of adventure?"

"During the night? In this weather?"

"He might've got lost... or hurt," Charlie admitted with a grimace. "I'm just saying... we might start looking around a bit out of town as well. He was on his bike after all."

"You might be just right, Charlie. Eileen mentioned that Kyle has a knack for getting himself into trouble and I remember treating the boy for skinned knees and a broken ankle when he tried to climb onto the roof two years ago."

Charlie nodded.

"Yes. So now we just need to figure out where would Kyle go. Ballarat is... rather big."

"Well... maybe you're holding the clues right there?" Blake pointed to the drawing in Charlie's hands. The one with the cave and dragon.

Charlie frowned.

"I think the closest cave system is near Skipton, isn't it? A bit far for an 11 year old to bike there in the late afternoon, without anyone noticing."

"You might be right on that," Blake sighed. "But there are still plenty of underground places here in Ballarat. There are underground shafts under the whole town. And the main building of the mines is pretty decrepit ever since it was closed. Or the fertilizer plant?"

Charlie grimaced. That was too much ground to cover and they didn't even know if they were on the right track. But it wasn't like they had a choice.

"I'll let the Boss know. But we barely have enough people as it is. It looks like there will be another storm soon and people are already tired from the night search," Charlie sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

"Maybe you should take a break then?" Blake offered. "You look done in, Charlie. When's the last time you slept? Or ate?"

Charlie just shook his head.

"That's not an issue now, Doc. We have a kid out there who most likely spent the night out in the rain. I wasn't complaining for me. Just... noting we don't have enough people."

"Don't worry about that. I heard Matthew called in some reinforcements from the neighbouring towns, so there should be enough volunteers. Now come on... let's get back to the station and decide where to focus the search."

xox

Lawson looked even more tired than Charlie felt. It was obvious he felt the pressure on his shoulders and sitting around the office made him even more cranky than usual. The man wanted to go out and search the town along with his cops, but he was limited by his bum leg and the fact that well... someone had to coordinate the whole shebang. And that someone had to be him.

So it was to that cranky Lawson that Charlie presented his theory about Kyle going for an adventure and getting himself into trouble. Blake confirmed that with his own observations about the boy and what he learned from the parents. Lawson just grimaced and walked over towards the map of the city and surrounding area. The map was already full of small coloured pins, showing which parts were already searched, which parts had a search party on and where they still needed some people.

"Okay, I have all of three cops left with you, Davis. You mentioned three different places. The mines, the fertilizer plant and the abandoned mill?"

Charlie nodded and they looked at the map. There were several more places around Ballarat that might pose a challenge for the boy, but they were on the other side of the town and far away enough that the boy realistically wouldn't have tried to reach them that late in the afternoon, knowing he had no time to return home before nightfall.

"Good. So... Davis, you and Harrison go to the mines. Lucien... if you will, take Simmons to the fertilizer plant? And I will send Hobart and Stone to the mill as soon as they return from the meeting of the volunteers at the church."

"Boss... only two people at each location?" Charlie frowned. "Those places are huge! We could do with some volunteers too."

But Lawson shook his head.

"No. I don't want any civilians in those places. They are decrepit enough. Last thing we need is someone else getting lost or hurt right now."

Charlie couldn't argue with that logic, but it didn't mean he was happy with it either. He had a gut feeling that they were on the right track, but just the thought of having to search through the closed down mines made him shiver. But an order was an order and after all, it was him who came up with the idea. So he swallowed down another protest and nodded.

"Yes, Boss."

"Good. And Charlie?"

"Yes?"

"Keep in radio contact and take some flare guns. I don't want one of you getting lost as well. Understood?"

"Righto, Boss."

He was already looking around for Harrison, when Blake stopped him.

"Maybe you could first stop by at the archive and check out the maps of the mines," he said softly and Charlie blinked, kicking himself for not even thinking about it in the first place. He was tired.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Thanks Doc."

"And... be careful, alright?"

"Same to you, Doc," Charlie replied with a smile. "Same to you."

xox

The Ballarat Gold mines in Sovereign hill had closed down almost half a decade ago. While Charlie borrowed a copy of the mine's plan from the archive, he wasn't putting much trust into its usefulness. Some of the structures were bound to be destroyed, and even the archivist warned him that most of the shafts had flooded.

It was with little hope and a grim outlook that Charlie and junior constable Jeff Harrison headed out to Sovereign Hill.

The car ride was spent mostly in silence. Jeff drove and Charlie was studying the maps. He wished that Blake was here with him instead. The man surely knew the history of the place better than Charlie and his knack for finding things would've been quite helpful. But Charlie also understood why Lawson didn't pair them up. Both Harrison and Simmons were, well... still junior constables. While Ned had gained plenty of experience recently, especially with all the crazy errands Lawson and all the previous supervisors kept sending him out to do, Jeff was like an eager puppy. He came out of the academy only few months prior and except for breaking up few pub brawls and writing out tickets, he had nil experience. There were two things though Charlie liked about the kid. One... he had respect for authorities. If he was told something, he listened. Which meant that Charlie didn't have a problem with him and didn't have to worry about the kid running off heedlessly and doing something stupid. Two... he was a born and bred Ballarat boy. He grew up in the city and probably knew it better than Charlie ever would. And right now, that knowledge might just come useful.

"These mines are huge, Jeff," Charlie sighed as he tried to figure out the right place to start their search. The main building and entrance to the mines seemed like a logical place, but he was pretty sure those were secured from possible entry. "Any idea where we should start?"

Jeff gave him a glance from watching the road. He looked a bit surprised but pleased at the same time.

"Well... it depends what the kid wanted to do?"

Charlie frowned. How the hell should he know? He wasn't even sure Kyle came here.

"I mean... if he is into exploring the shafts or if he would rather check out the equipment and the buildings."

Charlie thought back to the drawings and grimaced.

"I have a feeling he would be more interested in the shafts. But he didn't take anything from the house that would indicate this was a planned outing. And somehow I doubt he would be stupid enough to go inside the tunnels without a torch or ropes."

Jeff nodded, thinking through the possibilities.

"He might've just went for a walk around then? Maybe trying to find an entrance?"

"That's what I'm thinking of."

"So... where do you want me to go, Sergeant?" Jeff asked, slowing down the car. "Because we can head straight for the main building and look around there, or we can drive around according to the map and check out the main shafts."

Charlie sighed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

"Main building. We will see if there is some sing of entry. We will also need to be looking for the bike... Say Jeff... have you ever been in the mines exploring?"

Jeff paused, biting at his bottom lip.

"Come on, I'm not asking as a cop. I would hardly drag you up on charges for entering a restricted area when you were a kid."

Jeff sighed, then nodded.

"A few years ago... we were stupid teenagers. It was summer and we were bored... and the girls were all whining about wanting some jewellery. So... one afternoon we decided to hit the mines... see if maybe we can get lucky and bring home a bit of gold." Even as he talked about it, Jeff rolled his eyes. Charlie couldn't help the snort.

"Did you find something?"

"Nah. Just dirt and skinned knees getting over some debris and trying to get through the gate. We didn't even get inside a shaft. We were walking around the main building and down the trail where one of the guys thought was the entrance to the shaft. I think we found it... boarded up. So in our never-ending wisdom... we tore up one of the boards and started on the second, when the ground under our feet started to... move. I think we've unsettled something. I could hear rocks falling into the depth and hitting the ground low below. Way too deep for us to try and get in. So we turned and went home."

"That was the only time you tried?"

"Pretty much yeah. One of the group spilled the beans at home and his parents made sure all of us got to learn just how dangerous the place could be. As well that there was no way for us to find any gold without going all the way down and digging some up," Jeff said with a smile.

Charlie hoped that Kyle Bradley knew that as well. That he would be found somewhere else, safe and sound. Because giving the map another look, Charlie couldn't for the life of him imagine how he and Jeff would be able to check out so much ground.

xox

They had been walking around the main building and the entrance to the main shaft for about an hour now. Shouting Kyle's name, looking for any signs of his presence. There was none, though that didn't mean much. Charlie had discovered that the main gate to the mines had been already opened by some vandals. The chain with the lock was clearly cut through with pliers. He assumed it must've happened quite a time ago though, because the chain lay buried in a layer of dirt, only parts of it peaking out. Not to mention, Charlie doubted Kyle would have the strength or equipment needed to do that. He was hoping to maybe find some trail of the bike, but last night's rain had washed everything clean.

Once they had searched through the main building and checked the main shaft entrance... none of which seemed to be entered recently if their torches and the dust on the ground could be trusted, they went on a wider circle around the grounds. Charlie knew that splitting up they could cover a bigger area, but he really didn't want to risk losing Jeff... or getting lost himself. And looking up at the sky he was starting to worry that soon they would have to give up their search there as well. The dark and ominous clouds were starting to converge right upon their heads.

"You mentioned another shaft, Jeff. Do you remember which way it was?" Charlie asked, hoping for a Hail Mary. If Jeff and his friends knew about that place, maybe Kyle did too.

Jeff just nodded and lead the way. Charlie followed, occasionally calling out Kyle's name.

The first thing he saw was some kind of a wooden structure, almost like a gazebo, keeping guard over a hole in the ground. The second thing, the one that made his heart skip a beat then start up at a much faster pace, was the bike. Leaned against said structure, as if it was just forgotten.

"Kyle!" Both Charlie and Jeff bellowed at the same time, then started running towards the hole. As one, they came to a halt maybe a meter from the edge. They could see the evidence now. The wooden structure had a plain roof that had a wider diameter than the shaft below. It offered a partial cover from the rain. And maybe that was what brought Kyle there with the bike... maybe he was caught in the storm and not knowing better decided to wait it out under the shelter. There should've been enough cover and space for a boy leaning against one of the wooden beams. But... the water always finds its way and Charlie could see how it worked it's magic on the ground around the sides of the shaft... eroding it, making the planks at the edges of the hole rotten and unstable. And he could also see evidence of some disturbance near one of the beams. There were marks in the ground, gouges, as if someone had tried to hold on.

Charlie closed his eyes in silent prayer.

He took several careful steps forward, motioning for Jeff to stay back. He got to one of the beams and feeling secure enough, he leaned over a bit, staring into the endless dark pit. At least that's what his eyes saw.

"Kyle?" he called out and wished for his heart to stop beating so loudly. There was a second of dead silence... the only sound the echo of his own voice coming from the shaft. Then... there was something else.

A sob.

"Help!"

Charlie felt a rush of disbelief combined with relief. Kyle was alive. The relief however didn't last long.

He turned on the cumbersome torch and aimed it into the hole.

His heart skipped a beat again and Charlie felt lightheaded.

The beam of light did show him a boy. Muddied, scared boy with tear marks clearly visible on the dirty face. He blinked up, the light obviously blinding and uncomfortable, but didn't try to cover his eyes. Charlie understood why.

Kyle was half sitting half lying on a wooden ledge almost five meters below. The ledge couldn't have been wider than maybe half a meter and while it was long enough, circling around half of the shaft. Despite shining the light inside at different angles, Charlie couldn't guess how deep was the shaft. Just that there was something glistening below.

"Oh God," he muttered under his breath and for a moment wanted to scream. This wasn't good, not good at all. But... it was still better than the alternative.

"Don't move, Kyle!" he shouted into the shaft and got a tired sob in reply. He pulled the torch away and startled as he heard the boy scream.

"No! Don't leave me! Please!" the boy begged and Charlie rushed to shine the light back at him in fear that Kyle would move in his panic and fall.

"I'm not leaving," he assured him quickly. "I'm right here, Kyle. Not going anywhere, I promise. Just stay calm and please don't move!"

Charlie could see the boy nodding, one hand gripping the edge of the ledge, the other hand tucked against his belly protectively.

"It's okay, you will be fine, Kyle. We are here to help you. Just don't move."

"I...I won't," Kyle said, sniffling.

"Good lad." Charlie dared to turn around and met Jeff's eyes. He was trying to approach the opening from the other side and check out the situation for himself.

"Careful," Charlie hissed at him, noting that his movement had dislodged a bit of dirt that came tumbling down, luckily not on Kyle's side. Jeff stepped back, grimacing.

"Kyle? Are you hurt?" Charlie asked, trying to get as much information out of the boy as possible before deciding on the next step.

"My... my arm. I think it's... broken," the boy said, his voice trembling. "I'm cold. And thirsty. Please... get me out."

"We are working on it. Just stay put, okay?"

There was a grunt and Charlie caught the words _"-all night!"_ He had to smile a bit. The kid had spunk he had to admire that.

"Kyle... I will have to step back from here for a moment. I'm not leaving," he quickly assured the boy. "I just need to tell constable Jeff here what to do, okay?"

"Y-yeah," came the unsure reply.

"Good. Hang on."

With that Charlie turned away the torch and stepped back from the shaft.

"Jeff, I need you to return to the car and radio in that we found him and to send all the help. Then grab the rope from the back. It should be long enough to reach Kyle."

"You want to climb down?" Jeff looked at Charlie as if he was crazy.

"I'd rather not to, but I will if it's necessary. I don't like those clouds. If it starts raining there's no telling how long this structure would last. Get moving," he said and nodded at Jeff, who turned on his heels and ran. Charlie sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm down his nerves. So far so good. If they were lucky, help with the fire brigade would arrive long before it started raining. Kyle had lasted so far... hopefully, he could hang on a bit longer. Charlie didn't want to imagine the alternative.

Taking in a deep breath and making sure his voice didn't show his apprehension - Charlie wasn't a fan of heights himself - he moved back to the beam and turned the torch back on.

"I'm here, Kyle. Everything okay?"

"Y-yeah. Can... can you get me out?"

Charlie looked at the tired and desperate face blinking up at him. And next to the boy, a dark abyss.

"We are working on it, Kyle. By the way, my name is Charlie. I'm from the police. You know the whole town is looking for you by now?" Charlie said, trying to keep his tone light.

"Really?" Kyle looked a bit dubious.

"Yeah. Whole town. Just wait once we get you out... you will be the most popular kid at school."

"I... I could use that," Kyle admitted with a slight grin. It vanished though as Charlie moved the beam of light a bit. Kyle followed it and possibly for the first time saw what was below him. Or rather... what wasn't.

Charlie turned the light away the moment he saw Kyle's whole body go still.

"Don't look down, Kyle. Hey. Look up at me!" he called, using his commanding tone that he only ever used with his kid brothers when he was trying to stop them from running into the traffic or climb up a tree. It worked.

Kyle's gaze snapped up to Charlie, eyes wide and terrified.

"It's okay. You've spent the whole night there, Kyle. You can handle a few more minutes, right?"

Kyle didn't nod this time, but he didn't look away either. It seemed he had rather get a crick in his neck than risk setting a glance into the abyss and Charlie kind of wished he could do the same.

"Just think about what a story you can tell all your friends," Charlie continued talking, keeping his tone calm and even.

"Can you tell me how you got down there?"

"I... I just wanted to look around, I swear. But then the storm came and it got dark so fast. I didn't... I wanted to wait it out and go home. I hate storms," Kyle said with a sniffle.

"I hate them too, buddy," Charlie commiserated.

"I was holding onto the beam, but there was a crack and... everything was so slippery. I think... I think I took a step back and fell."

It was clear from the tone that he didn't want to think about it and Charlie couldn't blame him. He wanted to look back and see what the hell was taking Jeff so long, but he didn't dear break his eyes away from the boy. Those deep brown eyes in the scared face that bore such resemblance to his brother. "I have three younger brothers," Charlie said suddenly. "One of them... Billy is just a bit older than you. He likes to explore strange places as well. You won't believe the places I had to get him out of."

The terror in Kyle's eyes seemed to lessen a bit, replaced by curiosity. Charlie knew the boy was still scared out of his mind but now he clung to every word, just to take his mind off the situation. Charlie could deal with that.

"Like what? What places?" Kyle asked and Charlie let a smile slip on his face.

"Once I had to pull him out of a chimney..." That was when Billy was five, shortly before Christmas. He heard some stories at school and wanted to check if the chimney was big enough for Santa Claus... Charlie thought he would get an heart attack when he heard his brother's little voice calling from behind the wall, asking for help. "I managed to pull him out, but you should have seen my mom's face... she arrived just in time to see Billy standing in the middle of the living room, covered in soot," Charlie said with a smile and was heartened to hear a laugh coming from below.

"Did she... was she mad?" Kyle asked and his voice shook a bit.

"Yes, a little. We had soot all over the room and the carpet. But... she was also happy Billy was alright."

There was a moment of silence, then a sniffle.

"Any... any other stories?" Kyle pleaded and Charlie was just about to launch into another one... anything to keep the kid calm... when Jeff came running back. He had a rope thrown over his shoulder and he was panting from the run. Charlie realized the car wasn't parked all that close after all.

"I have more stories to tell Kyle, but I need to step back for a moment, alright? Jeff just returned and we have to figure out what to do. You stay still and don't worry. We'll get you out soon. Okay?"

"Don't... don't go far, please," Kyle whimpered and Charlie's heart broke for him.

"I'll be just a few steps away, Kyle. I can still hear you if you need anything, okay?" Charlie waited for Kyle's agreement, then carefully stepped back from the edge. Even just the few steps away from the shaft made the queasiness in his stomach settle a bit... he couldn't even imagine how the kid could've handled it so long.

"Did you get in touch with the station?" Charlie asked Jeff even as the man was putting the rope down on the ground and catching his breath.

"Yes, sir. I spoke with Superintendant Lawson. He is sending the fire brigade and anyone he can get in touch with right away."

"Good. Any idea when they will arrive?"

"About half an hour," Jeff replied with a grimace. "They had a false alarm on the other side of the town. There was... well, someone had called in a body floating in the river. But... it was just a log, probably from the storm."

Charlie cursed. Half an hour didn't seem so long, but he was aware that Kyle was on the verge of his strength. The kid was hurt, cold... probably haven't slept all night. He could get woozy from lack of food and water, or hell... even just from a glance down. Half an hour was a lot of time when something could get wrong.

Charlie's gaze settled on the rope. It was a sturdy one... the question was, would it be long enough as well?

"Sir... the Boss also wanted me to... give you a message." Jeff suddenly seemed nervous and Charlie frowned.

"What message?"

"He said we are supposed to wait for assistance and do not attempt anything foolish. For... safety reasons."

Charlie blinked, then laughed.

"I'm pretty sure the Boss didn't use those words, Jeff."

Jeff blushed a bit.

"I'm paraphrasing, sir. Don't want a write up for being disrespectful."

Charlie chuckled, then gave Jeff a pat on the shoulder.

"No worries. I can imagine what he said, word by word. I'm just worried that-" Charlie paused. As if to prove him right, the sky itself came to life. There was a flash of light shortly followed by a crack.

At the same time there was a startled yelp from the shaft and Charlie rushed towards the edge.

"Kyle?" he shouted, shining his torch down and letting out a sigh of relief. Kyle was still there, pushed against the wall and clinging to the ledge with all his might. The boy looked up and Charlie could see fresh tears on his face. He was terrified.

"P-please, get me out! I... I can't breathe. I can't stay here, please, Charlie, get me out!" Kyle was clearly panicking and Charlie cursed.

"Hey buddy, calm down. It's okay, help is on the way. You will be fine. Just breathe," Charlie tried to lead Kyle by example, taking excessive breaths, counting, doing anything he could remember to calm down the child. But there was only so much he could do, especially as after few minutes another crack sounded through the sky and Kyle's panic returned. This time nothing Charlie said was having any effect. Kyle had pulled his knees to his chest and began rocking slightly, muttering something under his breath.

Charlie bit at his lip. He looked up at the dark sky. The lightning wasn't that close and there was no rain yet, but there was no telling when it would start. And if that happened, the ground that was already drooling around the edges of the shaft could start falling down, making the rescue all the more complicated. What was worse, Kyle himself could move the wrong way in his panic and fall. Charlie wasn't about to let that happen, not when he had means to stop it. He came to a decision.

"Kyle? Listen to me, buddy. I'm... I'm coming down to get you, okay? Give me just few minutes and I'll be right there. Do you hear me, Kyle?"

The rocking slowed down and Kyle's face peeked up. There was a small nod and pleading eyes.

"Stay still buddy, that's all I ask."

There was another lightning and both Kyle and Charlie jerked at the sound. Kyle gave a keening sound and burrowed his head in his knees. But he kept still at least and that would have to do.

Charlie turned away from the shaft, towards Jeff.

"We need to move now, Jeff. The kid is panicking. We can't wait that long."

"But the Boss said..."

"Lawson isn't here. I am. And I am not leaving that boy there any longer," Charlie said and he must've shown enough conviction, because Jeff nodded. He still didn't look sure and cast a glance towards the main entrance, as if willing the fire brigade to magically appear. But there was no one, so with a resigned sigh, Jeff swallowed.

"What... what do you want to do, Sir?"

Charlie nodded. Then looked at the wooden structure over the shaft.

"Do you think it could hold the weight of both me and Kyle?"

Jeff looked as if he would've rather been answering a very complex mathematical question in front of the whole academy.

"Uh... maybe?"

Charlie grimaced. That wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear. But looking around he sadly couldn't find anything else where to tie the rope. And when it came to it... how would he even get Kyle out?

If they tied off the rope, he would have to climb up by his own powers. While that was doable if he was alone, his priority was to get Kyle up. And Charlie didn't think that Kyle could just hop on his back and hold on to him as he was climbing back up. The second option was to use the beam only as a support and have Jeff pull the rope up. But that logically left only one solution.

"We'll tie the rope and I'll climb down. Once there... I'll tie the rope around Kyle... while you use the beam to just secure the rope and... pull him up. Do you think you can pull up the kid?"

Jeff stared at Charlie as if he had grown a second head.

"Sir?"

"Come on, Jeff. Can you pull up an eleven year old? You go to gym, right?"

"Uh, yeah, sir, but... won't that leave _you_ down there?"

Jeff had a valid point. One that Charlie didn't really fancy thinking about.

"Yeah. But... only for a few minutes. Once you get Kyle out... you tie the rope back to the beam and throw me the other end. I can... climb out by myself."

Jeff didn't look convinced.

Charlie didn't feel very convinced either, but he could hear Kyle's crying just a bit louder. It was like hearing a scared wet kitten calling for its mother. Charlie couldn't ignore the sound.

"Let's do it," he said and grabbed the rope. The longer he would think about it, about all the things that could go wrong, the less likely he would find the courage to actually do it.

The preparation took only several minutes and as Charlie stood at the edge, ready to start climbing down, he realized he was scared. Standing there... feeling the empty space below, the darkness ready to swallow him, Charlie was assaulted by second thoughts. His limbs felt frozen in place, unable to move.

"Sir? Do you... do you really want to do this?" Jeff asked, standing only few feet away, holding the end of the rope in his hands, as if that could offer some security.

Charlie wanted to shake his head.

"C-Charlie?" Kyle spoke, down below and the plea in his voice was enough. It broke the ice in Charlie's veins and allowed his muscles to move.

"I'm coming," he said and with that lowered himself over the edge. He had already lowered the other end of the rope and now it was laying on the ledge, right next to Kyle. Charlie would have to climb down the rope without any safety mechanism.

Charlie clung to the rope for a moment, barely breathing. He was listening... for the creak of the beam holding his weight. Waiting for a crack of the wood and the feeling of falling... but it didn't come. Obviously, the beam and the rope were sturdy enough to hold Charlie's weight.

Still, he barely dared to breath as he descended down. He could feel the rope scratching against his palms, just as he could feel sweat making them a bit slippery. He just clutched on tighter, using his legs to give him some stability as well. If it wasn't under such dire circumstances, Charlie could've even enjoyed the activity. It reminded him of hours spent in the school gym, getting ready for a half marathon. He loved the workout then... the small height below giving him a thrill. But it was different now. If he messed up now... it wasn't just a few meters drop into the mattress. Now it was much worse. And it wouldn't be just him paying the price either, Charlie reminded himself as his feet touched the ledge.

He made it.

The question was... would the ledge hold his weight too?

There was a creaking sound as he put his whole weight down, and both he and Kyle had frozen in place. But nothing happened. Charlie let out a breath and crouched down.

Damn... the ledge seemed even smaller once he was there. Charlie didn't have much moving space and he had to force himself not to make a whimpering sound too. He couldn't panic now. There was too much at stake.

As if in answer to this thought, Kyle had finally uncurled from his position and looked at Charlie in disbelief.

"You're here," he breathed out, then without waiting for an answer, he reached out and awkwardly hugged one of Charlie's legs.

"Hey, it's okay. Of course I'm here," Charlie breathed out, still clinging to the rope and whatever feeling of security it offered.

"Jeff? I'm down," Charlie called up and had to look away as the beam of the torch hit his face.

"Everything alright, sir?"

"Yes. Untie the rope... just don't let it fall. I'll give you a signal when to start pulling, okay?"

"Aye, sir."

The beam of light moved away and Charlie could feel the rope in his hand moving a bit. He really hoped Jeff wouldn't let it slip over the edge or they would be screwed until the rescue arrived. And Charlie didn't even want to imagine what Lawson would say if they suddenly had to rescue two people instead of one.

Turning away from such dark thoughts, Charlie focused back on Kyle. He turned on his own torch and gave the boy a cursory exam, as good as he could under the circumstances.

Kyle was dirty and there were scratches on his face Charlie hadn't noticed before. From what he could see, the boy had managed to catch himself, but it resulted in a hurt or broken arm and possible a thrown out shoulder, if the stiff posture was anything to go by. There was no way Kyle would've been able to tie the rope around himself this way.

"It's okay, I'm here now," Charlie said and carefully extricated his leg from Kyle's grasp, then crouched down next to him. The ledge still held... and Charlie's heart kept on beating, although occasionally it felt as if it had skipped a beat.

Now that they were face to face, Kyle seemed to be even smaller than Charlie previously thought. Which in this case might've actually worked in their favour. The less he weighed the easier it will be for Jeff to pull him up.

"Can we... go home now?" Kyle sniffled and Charlie ran a hand over the top of his head in a calming motion.

"Yes, we are getting you home now. Do you want to hear the plan?"

Kyle nodded and Charlie told him. He was hoping that Kyle's adventurous spirit would override his panic at the notion that he would have to be pulled up on a rope, alone.

At first, it didn't seem so.

"No!" Kyle protested the moment Charlie told him. "I'm scared, please... what if I fall?" Kyle asked and Charlie could see he was working himself up again.

"You won't fall, okay? We will tie you up real good and you will be up before you know it," he reassured the boy.

"But what if..."

"Buddy, we need to get you out. You were so brave... you stayed still in the dark, all night. You're not alone anymore, okay? Trust me. I need you to be brave for just a bit longer."

Kyle sniffed then turned his face up, as if measuring the distance.

"You... you will be right behind, yeah?"

"Sure, buddy."

"I... I don't want you to stay here. It's... it's a scary place."

"I know," Charlie said, still unable to comprehend how the kid managed not to go crazy during the night. It must've been a harrowing experience. "I'll be right behind you, I promise."

Kyle nodded.

"You have to... tell me more about your brothers. About the... weird places they got to," Kyle said and shivered.

Charlie frowned, then reached out to touch the boy's face. It was cold. Of course it was, Charlie thought and wanted to curse himself. Without much thought he took off his uniform jacket and wrapped it around the boy.

"Here. This should keep you warm for a bit."

Kyle burrowed his face in the uniform, and his eyes lit up a bit.

"Now I'm like a copper," he said with a grin.

"Sure you are, buddy," Charlie laughed, then grew serious.

"Okay, let's get you out of here. Can you stand up please?"

With careful manoeuvring and balancing they both got up to their feet. Charlie was keeping hold of Kyle, whose legs had managed to fall asleep during the night. He gave him a few minutes to adjust to the change of position, then he tried to figure out just how to tie the rope around the kid.

Charlie cursed the fact he never joined the scouts, but after several attempts he finally managed to secure the boy both around his waist and partially between the legs. It didn't look comfortable at all and with Kyle's injured shoulder and arm it would be a painful experience, but Charlie's jacket helped to create a bit of a 'damper' between the boy and the rope. After experimentally pulling here and there, Charlie was finally satisfied.

"Good. Ready to try this out?"

"Not really," Kyle admitted sheepishly. "I'm scared."

"Me too," Charlie said and Kyle's eyes widened.

"That I'll fall?"

"Nah. You're safe. I'm more scared of my Boss, when he finds out I went against his order," Charlie said, only half joking. But it helped. Kyle smiled and gave him a somewhat awkward pat.

"Don't worry. I'll tell him you saved me."

"Thanks, buddy. Now... buckle up."

Charlie took Kyle into his arms, lifting him from the ledge.

"Jeff? Ready?" he called out.

"Ready!" came the answer.

"Hold on, Kyle," Charlie said, then hoisted Kyle up on his shoulders and eventually lifted as high as he dared, without risking losing his own balance.

"Pull!" he shouted upwards.

For a second nothing happened, but then the weight had slowly lifted from Charlie's shoulders. He heard Kyle yelp from pain as the rope tightened around him.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah," Kyle said, grunting.

Charlie knew the kid was hurting but at least he was moving up. Slowly but steadily, up towards the sky.

With each meter closer to the surface, Charlie felt a little bit more confident that they might just get out of this alright.

Finally, Kyle had vanished over the edge. There were some grunting sounds and Charlie let out a relieved sigh. He kept looking upwards, waiting for the rope to be lowered so that he could also climb out of this hell hole. He had already turned off his torch, because even just the smallest glance below caused his head to spin. Better not see what was there. His sole focus was upwards, until he finally spotted Jeff's face, peering down at him, the rope in his hands.

"Ready, Sir?"

"Yeah," Charlie answered and watched the rope slither down to him. He barely breathed until he finally had the end of the rope in his hands. Some sense of security at last. Charlie gave the rope a small tug. It held.

He wondered whether he should just climb up or tie it around himself. If anything happened, he at least wouldn't fall more than a few meters. In the end he tied a solid knot around his midriff and started climbing.

Something went wrong.

Charlie didn't know what. He didn't have the time to process it really. One moment he was off the ledge, arms pulling his body up the rope while the legs tried to find any possible ledge on the wall to help along. He made it maybe two meters up when there was a sound.

Charlie barely registered it. What he did register at the moment was the fact the rope went suddenly slack in his fingers. The wall was gone and gravity took hold. Charlie was plunging into the dark depths of the shaft and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N**: Originally I planned to post this as two chapters but then it looked quite short, so here you have a semi-long chapter. Enjoy:)_

* * *

The feeling of weightlessness lasted only a moment. It was quickly replaced by the awful feeling of one's stomach trying to escape through the chest cavity, while the rest of the body was caught in the tight grip of gravity.

Charlie thought he could hear someone scream, but it was lost in the pure terror. He was falling. He was going to die.

Charlie's body twisted and turned and he lost sight of the shaft's opening. The fall seemed to be endless but there was not a single thought inside Charlie's mind, except for terror.

His feet hit the water.

It was such a shock that Charlie gasped for breath just before his whole body plunged into the cold wetness. The second the water touched his face, Charlie's throat closed up. He couldn't have breathed even if he wanted to.

There was pain stabbing through his feet, resonating through his spine but all he could focus on was the cold darkness closing over his head. He was still descending into the depths, the force of the plunge taking him down below until the water's resistance finally stopped the pull of gravity.

But it was too late.

Charlie had twisted and turned in the water. He tried to open his eyes but the water stung and it was dark and there was no light. No up and no down and all Charlie could feel was the rest of the rope tied around his waist that had fallen with him, pulling him somewhere.

He should've known it was down and he should try and swim the other way, but nothing much made sense and Charlie was panicking. Still, he kicked with his feet, his throat letting out a precious bubble of oxygen as the movement sent more pain through Charlie's body. He continued kicking despite of it, knowing there was no time. He would either swim up or die and he didn't want to die.

But upwards wasn't where he was going.

After few more kicks Charlie's hands encountered a wall. It was above him and Charlie couldn't comprehend. He pushed away from the wall and encountered another... but there was no air anywhere. Charlie came to a still.

His chest was already burning from lack of oxygen and he knew that soon he wouldn't be able to hold back anymore. He would have to take a breath. He would drown.

Charlie stilled, spreading his arms... hoping that his body might float upwards. His fingers touched the wall... and kept moving. _He _was moving, but it wasn't upwards. Only once he became still did Charlie realize that there was some sort of a current and he was being taken away.

There was a moment when Charlie felt like giving up. It wouldn't take long. Just... wait a moment and the darkness and coldness will vanish. It would be over.

'_Don't you dare, Davis!' _

It was as if Lawson was standing right next to him and Charlie startled. His eyes opened even though there was nothing to see. His body curled up and Charlie's hand grabbed for the wall in a last ditch attempt to find some escape.

He tried to turn around and swim back against the current but that took too much effort and Charlie already had to physically force his mouth to stay shut. Only seconds... he needed to fight. He needed to get out!

He let go. He let the current take him deeper into the shafts, while his hands were flailing around, reaching, trying to find _something._

The end of the rope got caught. Charlie jerked and came to a stop once again. Even if he could've seen, there would already be grey spots around the edges of his vision. He let out some more of the breath as he grabbed for the rope and just... tried to follow it.

It wasn't a long journey. His fingers reached the part of the stuck rope and clenched around something... steel. It felt like part of a railway. It was curving to the side and Charlie realized as he followed the rail that he could feel a slight slope. The rails were leading up.

Charlie yanked at the stuck part of the rope, his fingers shaking but managing to dislodge it after a second tug. He gripped the rails and followed them... up the slope. Up until he couldn't feel the current anymore. Up until he couldn't control anything anymore. His fingers went slack as the world seemed to vanish and his body floated upwards. Charlie's legs touched an obstacle and he gave one last feeble kick as his throat gave up and his lungs opened.

His head broke through the surface of the water just as Charlie took in a lungful of water and air.

The shock of it was almost enough to send Charlie back down, but his feet were touching ground and as he flailed around, his head once again came through the surface.

Air.

There was air.

Charlie's feet became lead and his arms grasped around, trying to find anything to secure himself in place, to not lose precious orientation. As soon as his right hand hit rocks, Charlie's fingertips clutched at them, while he coughed and spluttered.

His lungs were at the same time trying to get rid of the water and pull in more oxygen and Charlie let his body decide the struggle. He hacked and gasped, then gagged as he felt some of the water pour from his mouth and nostrils. It was gross and it burned. His lungs burned, his chest was tight and it was like drinking lava, but... there was air.

Charlie didn't know how long he spent gasping and gagging until finally his lungs stopped struggling so much and he could finally get his breathing under control.

He was alive.

Somehow... he was still alive and there was air. Even though there was no light and he was standing in water up to his neck... but he survived the fall.

Charlie shivered just at the thought of it.

He never wanted to repeat the experience. Falling... or drowning. None of it was pleasant.

"I'm alive," he said it out loud, then cringed. The sound of his own voice was... strange. He barely recognized his voice, it was scratchy and wet sounding still, but... that wasn't what made him shake. No. What sent shivers down his spine, along with the water and clothes clinging to his skin, was the muffled sound. As if there was not much space at all.

Charlie swallowed down the whimper that threatened to escape his throat and willed himself not to panic. Willed himself to try and regulate his breathing, because... he really didn't know just how much oxygen there was.

Calming down was impossible.

Whatever he did, whatever he thought of. All that was on his mind was that he fell into a shaft, that he was taken away by the current and by some miracle managed to find air. But he was still in darkness, in an unknown place, cold water reaching up to his neck. His lungs were still seizing occasionally, trying to get rid of the water he managed to breath in. And his leg... there was definitely something wrong with that. Charlie didn't dare to try and figure out what however. He stood still, trying to keep _some_ of the weight of the hurt leg, the one that bore the brunt of his plunge into the water, but he still had to put some pressure on it to hold his balance. He wasn't risking losing orientation ever again... not with oxygen on such short supply.

Which begged the question.

Just how much air did he have?

Charlie gritted his teeth then took in a breath through his nose. The air smelled stale... smelled of water and dirt and myriad other things Charlie couldn't discern. He wished Blake was there... wished the man could just tell him what was in the water. What was in the air. Did the smell of rotting wood mean anything useful for Charlie?

He doubted it.

Resigned, Charlie knew he would have to move. While his gut was telling him that the best thing would be to just stay still and wait... wait for the rescue to arrive, Charlie knew that was an impossible task.

He had to find out just where the hell did he end up.

The only thing was... that meant Charlie would have to move. And right now that just didn't seem possible. He was scared. So scared it almost took his breath away. Because he knew how big of an area the shafts under Sovereign Hill covered. He had seen the maps. Still... if there was a chance, he was sure Lawson and Blake would do anything to get him out. At least he hoped so.

At least Kyle was alright.

Charlie bit into his lip and wondered what went wrong. Why had he fallen. Did the rope break after all? Or was it the wooden beam?

Not that it mattered all that much in this moment. Charlie was stuck in the cold darkness and he wasn't sure there was a way out. Would this become his watery grave?

"Stop it," he said and his own voice was like a slap on the face. He shouldn't be this scared. He needed to calm down, just like he told Kyle. The eleven year old boy... who lasted the whole night, during a storm, hanging onto a ledge with a gaping abyss below. Alone and scared. Yet still alive.

Charlie willed himself to be half as brave as Kyle was.

It was time to figure out his situation.

The safest way was to follow the rail down under his feet, while keeping one hand on the wall. Charlie made a step forward and shortly panicked when he realized he didn't know which way he came from... in his panic during breaching the surface he twisted and flailed around wildly. The step might be taking him back to the current, away from air...

Then the logical part of his mind set in. The rails led him here because there was a slight incline. He just had to go up, instead of down. Easy. He didn't need a light for that and he still had his other senses. Charlie took in a breath and made another step. Yes... he could feel that the water level was a bit lower... before it was hitting his jaw, now it was under the jaw line. Charlie felt a surge of hope. Maybe he could get out of the water after all...

His next step drove that hope away. His hurt leg gave a cry of pain as in his haste he put more weight on it that it could handle. Charlie yelped and flailed his arms as he felt his leg crumble momentarily and the water touch his face.

He shut his mouth and waved his arms in the water, while his other leg took over and he could catch his balance. Sputtering, Charlie cursed his stupidity. He had to stop panicking, or he would drown himself before anything else.

Charlie took a moment just to breathe and get back his bearings. That was easier said than done though. How could one get his bearings if he couldn't see a thing? Couldn't really hear anything either, except his own heavy breathing and splashing of water disturbed by his movements. Nothing else. The clothes were clinging to his skin heavily and Charlie was almost glad he gave up his jacket to Kyle. One less article to pull him down. He doubted it could've served him now anyway. The throbbing in his left leg lessened a bit... Charlie was sure to only touch the ground with the tip of his toe if absolutely necessary. He was in water, if need be, he could just swim or float. He wasn't sure what was wrong with the leg, but it felt like his ankle was busted.

Charlie was surprised he got off so easily. The fall... Charlie shuddered at the mere thought of it... it felt so long. He was sure the landing would kill him instantly. He was glad it didn't, but at the same time... Charlie worried if this wasn't just a more prolonged way to death.

"Stop it," he muttered again, wishing it wasn't his own voice coming back to him, but someone else. Someone familiar that would mean rescue was on the way.

Charlie once again put a hand on the wall, feeling reassured that he found it quickly. He could feel the rail touching the side of his right foot... and only now did Charlie notice he was in fact barefoot. Somewhere during the fall and the swim he lost his shoes. Oh well. That was the least of his problems right now.

He made sure he could stand still as he was, then used his left hand to reach out and feel the water in front of him. So far, so good. There was still air and he couldn't really reach the roof of his prison yet.

Charlie pushed off, one hand gliding along the wall as he moved several feet ahead... until his left hand encountered an obstacle.

"Damn!" Charlie hissed, because whatever his hand hit was hard and sharp and he could feel it nicked one of his fingers.

Charlie came to a halt.

He could tell he was a bit further up the incline, because the water was now reaching the top of his shoulders. He lifted his arm and this time he could also feel the top of the shaft he was in... solid rock with support wooden beams. There was maybe half a meter of free space between the water surface and the top. And it looked like his way forward would have to come to a stop.

Charlie carefully set both legs down, cringing a bit at the pain, but needing both his arms free to explore the obstacle in front of him.

Slowly and aware of the possible sharp protrusions, Charlie first tried to feel above the water.

His fingers encountered a hard surface. Rocks... parts of a wooden beam... even something that felt like steel or metal. Mostly though it was a big wall of rubble, packed tight enough that Charlie couldn't possibly tell what was on the other side. _If_ there was anything on the other side at all, or if he just encountered a collapsed tunnel.

Charlie dearly hoped not. Because even if he couldn't continue out that way, he needed there to be at least the smallest opening. For the air to come in. Otherwise... well. Otherwise he would run out of oxygen sooner rather than later.

For a moment Charlie was overwhelmed by the urge to take a deep breath and dive back under the water. To get out of this little safe space, swim up against the current and maybe... maybe find the place he fell in and break through the surface. Then all he would need to do was call for help. Let them know he wasn't dead yet. And someone could throw him a rope and...

But that was just a stupid wish. An idea that Charlie buried in the back of his mind as soon as it came. Because he knew how impossible it would be.

What were his chances of holding his breath long enough to get to his goal? And would he be even able to do it?

His memory of the fall and the subsequent drowning was hazy from the panic. He could have twisted and turned and swam past more than just one side tunnel. He wouldn't know. There was no light to guide him.

His chest still felt too tight and his nostrils burned from breathing in water. The idea of going back there and getting lost again...

Charlie's hand gripped around the wall of debris. No. He was not risking that. He would rather wait there till the dawn of time than face that kind of terror again.

* * *

When Lucien Blake arrived to the closed gold mine, it was to an eerie stillness. He knew the boy was found and that he seemed to be trapped in one of the shafts. Lawson had managed to get hold of him and Ned as they were circling back to the police car, having no luck at the fertilizer plant. Lawson was sending everyone available to the site to help with the rescue, but admitted that Blake was closer than the dispatched ambulance and might arrive sooner.

Blake didn't much care, he would have driven out there as fast as possible even if the whole Ballarat was already there. But it wasn't.

Blake expected to see a few people and cars already in the place and this was actually true. However, the scene itself seemed a bit different. For one... Kyle was there, sitting on the ground, wrapped in what looked like a police jacket... one belonging to a Sergeant, if the insignias were anything to go by. The boy was crying, eyes wide and gazing towards the shaft opening. One policeman was talking at him softly, trying to calm him down. Another officer was standing at the edge of the opening, one hand holding on securely to the wooden support beam, the other hand holding a torch and pointing it down below. Next to him, Jeff Harrison was doing the same thing. Blake froze. He had clear view of Harrison's face from the side and the kid looked... for a better word, frantic.

Blake looked at Kyle, who seemed inconsolable, but otherwise alive and mostly unharmed... then he turned, thinking that maybe he just wasn't paying attention. That maybe Charlie was off getting more help...

But even as he was trying to rationalize why Charlie wouldn't be there, Blake felt his stomach drop. The look on Harrison's face... the familiar jacket on Kyle.

Blake swallowed, but resumed his steps toward the child. He knelt down and put a hand on the boy's shoulder, while exchanging a greeting glance with the policeman.

"Hello, Kyle. Do you remember me? I'm Dr. Blake," he introduced himself, for a moment pulling the attention of the boy away from the opening.

Kyle blinked, trying to see through the tears streaming down his face. He focused on Blake, then sniffled and shook his head.

"N-no," he admitted. "Is... is he alright?"

Blake raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Dr. Blake, the guys might need you over there," the Constable nodded towards the shaft, where Ned was already asking what happened.

Blake swallowed. He was dying to ask the question, but at the same time didn't want to hear the answer. So he turned back towards the boy.

"I'm here to make sure that you're alright, Kyle. Did you get hurt?" Blake gave the boy a quick once over, noting the way he was shaking and the stiff way he was holding his arm close to his chest. "Can I look at that arm?"

But Kyle shook his head and pulled back. Blake expected to see fear and pain in his eyes, but instead there was something akin to anger.

"No! Help _him!" _Kyle pointed towards the opening. "H-he fell, cause I was stupid. He just wanted to help me and now he's dead and-" Kyle's words ended up in a sob and Blake could only give his shoulder a tight squeeze, utter soothing words and look up at the Constable with fear in his own eyes.

"I'll take care of him, Dr. Blake. You better go," the Constable said and Blake stood up quickly.

"Keep him warm and give him something to drink," Blake said in parting, hoping the boy was indeed alright and he didn't miss anything. He would return to him shortly, but he needed to know. He needed to make sure.

"Where's Charlie?" he asked without preamble as he reached the now troubled looking trio at the shaft.

It was Harrison who nodded shakily down, the beam of his torch pointing deep into the abyss below. Lucien's eyes widened.

"What?!"

"I...I'm sorry, Doctor. We... the kid was panicking and Sergeant said we couldn't wait, so he rappelled down. But we needed to pull the kid out first, so he stayed behind and I threw him the rope and he was on the way up, but... the rope just... it snapped! There... it... it must've caught on something before or... I..."

Harrison was clearly in shock himself and under other circumstances, Blake would have sent him to sit down next to the boy and just try and calm down. But... at the moment he couldn't care less for the state of the young copper. His mind was trying to make sense of the quickly rambled off sentences.

"Charlie... fell?" he asked, feeling unbelievably dumb.

Harrison nodded and the look on his face was enough to convince Blake he was serious.

Blake grabbed the torch from Harrison's hand and leaned over the opening as far as he could, ignoring two pairs of hands that grabbed the lapels of his jacket in panic.

"Charlie!" he shouted, shining the light around the shaft, trying to see to the bottom... trying to hear a reply.

There was none, only silence and the echo of his own voice.

"Charlie!" he shouted once more, with the same effect. The light showed him a reflection back however and Blake squinted. His ears caught the sound of water. It wasn't strong and Blake wasn't sure if it wasn't just his imagination or if it wasn't the storm coming towards them, bringing rain. But no... the reflection meant there was water. If there was water... there was a slight chance Charlie did survive the fall... after all, Blake couldn't see a body floating there.

"We need to get down," he said and looked around almost frantically. Time was off the essence surely. "How long is he down?"

If it was just a minute or two, maybe they could still save him.

"We need a rope," Blake said resolutely and looked at the trio. "Well? Move! Get me some blasted rope!"

The three cops exchanged a look and it was Ned who took hold of Blake's arm and pulled him several steps back from the opening.

"Doc, we can't. We can't risk anyone else right now."

"Bollocks! I'm not asking you to risk anyone, just get me a bloody rope and I'll go in there look for him myself!" Blake snapped.

Simmons shook his head.

"We don't have a long enough rope and Chief Superintendant would _kill us _if we let you go in there anyway. Why don't... why don't you go help the kid? We need to wait for the fire brigade..."

Blake wanted to protest. He wanted to shout and rage, because they were losing precious minutes, but he knew Ned was right. If they didn't have a long enough rope... and who was he kidding. If Charlie wasn't answering their calls... and they couldn't see him anywhere... chances were they would need a diver to get him out. To get out his body... because what were the chances of him surviving that fall?

Blake's legs went weak and he was suddenly grateful for Ned's hold on his arm.

"We need to help him, Ned. We can't just leave him there," Blake said, his voice barely a whisper.

"I know, Doc. But we can't do it alone."

As if to prove his point, there was a crack of lightning piercing the sky. Blake didn't even flinch. He felt a familiar sense of numbness overcome his body, his emotions shutting off. He couldn't... he couldn't do a thing until others came. Until then there was a child that spent the whole night alone, trapped and hurt. He was scared and needed reassurance.

"You're right, Ned, of course," Blake said casually, ignoring the look of surprise on Ned's face. "I'll go look at Kyle. You... you better get back to the car and inform... inform Matthew. I think he should be here."

The next hour passed by in a blur for Blake. He managed to examine Kyle before the rain came and was relieved to see that the boy was at least not seriously injured. Except for some scrapes, the broken arm and exposure he didn't seem to be hurt otherwise. Which, after listening to what happened to him and seeing where he had landed on the ledge was quite a miracle. Blake just wished there could be another miracle. The boy was suffering more from emotional shock. He was quite aware of the fact the rope had broken when the man that saved him tried to get out of the shaft and the guilt he must've been feeling was immense. Despite his attempts, Blake was unable to console the boy and he was almost happy to be able to hand him over into the hands of the medics when the ambulance arrived.

Along with it came the fire brigade and Matthew. His face was pale and idly, Blake wondered whether he would have to send him off to a dentist, because he could _see_ how much Matthew was clenching his teeth.

Lawson had limped towards him with a grim look on his face and the first person he turned to was of course Harrison. Blake couldn't blame him. He also felt anger at the younger man when he first learned what happened to Charlie. But the anger passed quickly. It was hardly Harrison's fault and Charlie was right in one thing. The storm did hit before the car with the fire brigade arrived. If the boy was left down there and had panicked... Blake didn't want to think about it. Right now, he didn't want to think about anything really.

Not about what it must've been like to fall... or anything that followed.

Lawson was laying into the young Constable until he got a full report of the situation. Then he gave a curt nod and sent Harrison back to the station. The Constable protested.

"Sir, I want to stay. I... I want to help. Please," he practically turned to begging. Lawson gave him a cold look, then shook his head.

"I gave you an order, Constable Harrison. I expect you to follow it this time."

Harrison blanched and Blake could see he wanted to protest again, but he closed his mouth instead and nodded.

"Yes, sir. I understand."

Harrison gave one last glance towards the shaft which was currently being surrounded by several firemen and without any other comment headed back to his car.

"It wasn't really his fault, Matthew," Blake spoke wearily and some of the coldness left Lawson's eyes.

"Maybe that's why I don't want him here in case all we bring back is a body," Lawson said and Blake shuddered.

"Don't..." he started, wanting to stop the words, but it was late. "There's still a chance," he said instead.

Lawson gave him a look, one that said he knew Blake was just hoping, but at the same time he was willing to play along. He nodded.

"Let's talk to the others and make sure we get him back."

So that's what they did.

The rain had at least stopped shortly after it started. One bright spot in the otherwise dim looking day. The fire brigade was hesitant to allow anyone down until the storm was over. Now they were setting up a safety mechanism to allow another man to rappel down the shaft and see. The original plans Charlie and Harrison brought with them showed them the position of the shaft but they had to wait for someone to bring another plan of the underground itself. They realized this shaft had two other adjacent shafts from which several chutes led towards the surface. Blake listened as a man who had previously worked in the mines explained how the bottom levels were most likely flooded, especially after so much rain.

He listened numbly as the man told the firemen and the divers how Charlie could be essentially stuck several hundred meters further, without air. How slim there was a chance that he managed to get into one of the chutes and found an air pocket-

Blake blinked.

"Air pocket?"

The man paused.

"Yes. You see... the chutes are inclined... while some had been blocked, there might still be a few with air access. If your man managed to get there... he has a very slim chance of still being alive. If not... all you are doing now is body retrieval," he said quite bluntly and Blake clenched his teeth.

"But there is still a chance. We need to move then. If he's still alive, he's running out of time!" Blake felt as if someone pumped fire into his veins. He was numb before, but now he needed to move, he needed to do something and help Charlie.

"It's not that simple, Doctor," the man halted him. "There might be currents that can make it difficult to move around, especially now after the rain. There might be debris, mud... no telling how good visibility is there. Finding your guy might be just too dangerous right now-"

"We are not giving up on him!" This time it was Lawson who spoke up and there was steel in his voice. "We don't leave people behind."

Blake thought that was more of the army's motto than the police, but he wasn't about to argue right now. Both he and Lawson had served their time in the army and Blake knew how much Matthew cared about his people. It was his family, his responsibility.

"It's still too risky, Superintendant," the man protested, but Lawson just shook his head and turned towards the fire brigade Captain.

"What do you think, Rick?"

The firey's Captain looked at the plans, then at the police diver.

"We can secure the area and provide support during the descent. One of our guys, Rick, has some diving experience as well, but it's up to your diver really."

"Hank?" Lawson asked expectantly and Blake felt like screaming, because have they been really entertaining the option of not even trying to save Charlie?

"It _will be _risky," Hank, a thirty something well built guy said and Blake felt a flash of hope at the words _will be_.

"But... I think we should try. I can see there are two chutes that might have some air pockets and which are close enough to the main shaft. Anything further down would be probably too far for him to have survived without air," Hank said honestly.

"So... two chutes. That's... doable, right?"

The men looked at Lawson, then all of them gave a reluctant nod. Lawson slammed his hand down on the map.

"Great. Then let's get on with it."

The men dispersed, the captain calling two of his men to prepare everything necessary, while the former miner still looked unhappy about it, though resigned. It wasn't his skin on the market after all.

"Thanks, Hank," Lawson said to the police diver, his tone showing his appreciation. Hank nodded.

"Of course, Superintendent. Not about to leave one of our own behind if it can be helped. Now if you excuse me, I need to get my equipment ready."

Matthew and Blake stayed alone for a moment. They were both damp from the rain but neither of them really noticed.

"Damn that kid for playing a hero," Lawson grumbled but there was no anger in it, only worry.

"You would've done the same," Blake said, knowing his friend. Lawson didn't argue the point. They both knew Charlie did what he was supposed to do and whatever the outcome... Kyle was alive. That had to count for something.

It wouldn't make calling Charlie's mother any easier though.

Blake felt his emotions coming back to the surface, threatening to overwhelm him at the thought of letting Shirley know, at the thought of telling Jean...

Lawson must've noticed. He gave Blake a hard pat on the back.

"Don't go there yet, Lucien. Let's get our boy back."

Blake looked at Matthew and saw the same worry in his eyes, but also the same determination. He took in a calming breath, then nodded.

"Yeah. Let's get him back."


	3. Chapter 3

Charlie hated the quiet and the dark. He hated the cold too, but somehow he was becoming numb to it. He was still shivering, but his skin was going numb. The discomfort of his body was nothing compared to the discomfort of his mind.

Being stuck in the dark without any outside input was true hell. Charlie didn't know how much time had passed. It could've been minutes from his fall... it could've been hours. He had no way to judge the passage of the time, except for his growing panic.

At first, he was still. Conserving energy, as one was taught, when stuck in cold environment. But... standing around in the water, or occasionally treading water just to get a feeling that he was still alive, wasn't going to resolve his situation. It wasn't going to chase away the darkness.

Charlie tried not to think about what was happening on the surface. He tried not to think about all the reasons or problems Blake and Lawson might encounter, or rather the rescue party. _If _they even decided to come. Because in the back of Charlie's mind there played a thought that maybe they didn't. Maybe the storm had come instead. Maybe they just looked at the bottom of the shaft and had seen no sight of him. Maybe they decided it was too dangerous for anyone else to come and that Charlie was surely dead.

The thought that made him swallow down a sob, clench his hands and bite on his bottom lip was that he was left alone.

Charlie could imagine himself, waiting in some little side shaft, in utter darkness, under tons of dirt and rocks. So much dirt above his head, ready to just bury him at any moment. He imagined the surface... an old abandoned gold mine. The sky dark, filled with storm clouds, rain pounding heavily at the ground. Only empty buildings around, not a living soul.

Charlie could see it so clearly for a second it felt almost like an out of body experience. Then it was as if his mind slammed back into his body with a force. Charlie gasped, his body jerking.

He couldn't be alone. Blake would never leave him like that. Lawson would never leave a man behind. They couldn't...

But the image was there and Charlie couldn't wipe it away.

Charlie couldn't stay still any longer. He turned around, towards the rubble blocking his way to freedom. At first, Charlie just felt his way over the obstacle, his fingers brushing over the surface. But his hands were going numb and his desperation was growing. If nothing else, he had to push the suffocating image out of his mind. He had to stop thinking about being underground, about his friends leaving him behind.

Charlie started digging. He dug his fingers into the rubble, releasing smaller rocks. He flinched as he felt a scratch on his hand, but ignored the pain and dug in deeper. There were few larger rocks. Maybe if he could dislodge those, maybe the thing would give way. Maybe he could feel a bit of fresh air coming from the other side.

He kept digging; pulling at things, pushing. The pain in his hands became insignificant. The more he dug, the less he felt. His whole body was going somewhat numb... even the leg didn't hurt as much as before.

Charlie should've known that wasn't a good sign.

In his struggle to get to the other side, he was putting out more energy than he should have. The cold was getting deeper inside his bones. Breathing was more difficult.

One of the rocks had dislodged and fell into the water with a splash. The water hit Charlie in the face and he froze. It was like getting a slap. He stopped his frantic movements.

'What the hell am I doing?' he asked himself. With much more thought Charlie reached out to examine the rubble again, only to discover he barely made a dent. Dislodging few rocks did nothing... there were many more rocks behind. Rocks and pieces of steel.

Charlie could feel the cuts and bruises on his hands as they stung in the water.

This had no point. He would sooner bleed out from cutting his wrist open on the rocks than dig a large enough opening to pull through. Not to mention, the whole tunnel ahead of him might've been collapsed.

Charlie wanted to weep. Because the only other way out seemed to be going back from where he came from. It meant getting his head under water once again and risk losing himself in it all.

Charlie took few steps toward the exit... but he came to a stop when water reached up to his mouth. Then he backed away, his breathing stuttering. He couldn't... he just couldn't go under. Not again.

Charlie whimpered and wished that someone was there with him. Someone who would know what to do.

What _would _Lawson do in this situation?

"_I wouldn't have bloody gotten myself into it!"_ Charlie could just hear the man's voice and it was almost startling in the quietness of the place. Only almost though.

'_Of course not, Boss,'_ Charlie thought and took a calming breath. He tried to imagine the station... tried to imagine Lawson sitting behind his desk, glaring daggers at Charlie. The man would surely be pissed about the whole situation and when Charlie was rescued he knew there would be hell to pay. Probably a month's worth of desk duty. But at the moment that sounded like heaven to Charlie's ears. He would give anything to see Lawson's grumpy face again. To sit in the car with the Doc on the way from their newest case and discuss possible scenarios. To just help Jean set the dinner table, sit down and eat a bowl of warm soup. Charlie could've killed for something warm right now.

He would've done anything to hear something besides his own increasingly shivery breathing or the sound of water splashing around in this enclosed space every time he as much as moved a finger. It made him only more aware of his situation, but also... it made his mind go to dark places. To places it hadn't visited since he was a child, hidden under a blanket during a stormy dark night, afraid of the monster lurking under the bed. Charlie was barely six then, and Ray was just about to be born. He had a room all for himself then and a wild imagination to boot. Before his brothers came... Charlie was afraid of being alone. He started to appreciate quiet and darkness only once he lost it to the arrival of his siblings. But until then... his nights were often spent gazing from behind the blanket towards the corner of the room, jumping at shadows. There were ghosts and there were monsters just waiting for him to let his guard down.

Charlie thought he had grown out of his fear of darkness but as time passed in this little hellhole, he knew the fear never really vanished. It was pushed back and locked up by the logical part of his mind, yes. But...Charlie had never before been in such total darkness before. He never felt so vulnerable, so _threatened_ by his surroundings. His body was going numb but his mind... it was going crazy.

There was a sound. A sudden, clicking sound that startled him. Was something coming? Did someone find him?

It took Charlie several seconds to figure out the sound was coming from him. From the chattering of his teeth.

Letting out a groan, Charlie gritted his teeth, trying to stop the chattering. It only made his head hurt though. He needed to focus on something, anything but the situation he was in.

Maybe think about some place that was warm and sunny and full of sound. Like one of the summers way back, when Ray and Mikey were old enough to splash around in the water. Charlie was fourteen and even though he could've imagined better things to do, like go to the cinema with his friends from the neighbourhood, this was one of the hottest days of the summer. For once his whole family was together, enjoying the day. His father had finished the night shift at work only few hours earlier, but instead of going to bed in the stifling heat, he decided to pack them all up and drive to a secluded beach. Now Norm Davis lay on the sand, his face covered under a straw hat as he was sleeping off his work, while Shirley was preparing some snacks under the huge umbrella they brought along, the youngest member of the family Billy, still just a baby tucked safely in the shadows by her side. Charlie was tasked to keep an eye on the other two boys and he found that the easiest way to do it was just throw the ball on the shore.

Mikey and Ray were running around, squealing with laughter as the waves washed at their feet and Charlie couldn't stop the smile splitting his face. He closed his eyes and turned his face up towards the sun, soaking in the warmth like a hungry flower. He felt the heat touching his skin and chasing away the strange chill, although it still wasn't enough to drive away the bone deep cold. Charlie shivered and frowned. He shouldn't be feeling chilly.

Maybe he was coming down with something? Or maybe he spent too long in the sun and his body was just confused. Charlie opened his eyes and tried to ignore the feeling. He focused on Mikey and Ray kicking the ball to each other, splashing the water everywhere.

"Careful that you don't step on anything, boys," Shirley called towards them. Her voice sounded to be far away and a bit distorted. Charlie frowned.

Ray must've noticed too. He looked towards his mother in confusion, just as he was kicking the ball to Mikey. The ball went high and a bout of wind seemed to catch it in its grip, steering it towards the deeper water.

Both Mikey and Ray cried out in dismay and Charlie saw both boys ready to plunge into the water and get it.

"Race ya!" Ray shouted at his younger brother and Mikey grinned.

"No!" Charlie called out, seeing the growing waves and knowing his brothers weren't such experienced swimmers. The boys looked at him, startled.

"I'll get it. Go back to mum. The snacks are ready."

At the mention of food the ball was forgotten. Charlie watched, making sure his brothers were heading the right way, and only then did he jump into the waves, ready to retrieve the ball.

The water was cold.

Too cold for it to be in the middle of summer.

Charlie still swam towards the ball that seemed to be bobbing only few meters from him, enticing. He kicked his legs and held his breath as a wave hit him in the face, sending him spluttering a bit.

Charlie couldn't see. Some of the water got into his nose and in his eyes and even though the salt water shouldn't have hurt, his eyes burned. Charlie forgot the ball. He treaded water, while one hand rubbed at his face, trying to get the water out.

Blinking, Charlie saw he wasn't at the beach anymore. It wasn't the middle of summer and he wasn't a teenage boy either. Instead he was treading water in lake Wendouree, in the late autumn, shivering and hoping to find something down below. A cause of death for the young man that jumped in just a day ago and didn't make it back to the surface alive.

Charlie wasn't a violent man and he had respect to authorities. None of that however stopped the string of curses headed Lawson's and Blake's way as he took in a deep breath and dove back under the water.

He felt something hard at the bottom on his previous dive, but his fingers felt too cold to get a good grasp on it before he ran out of air. This time he was prepared and knew where to go, even though it was dark. The water was already muddy from his previous dives, not to mention Charlie wasn't fond of opening his eyes underneath. It didn't matter whether it was sweet or salty water, it never felt good on his eyes.

He reached the bottom and located the object quickly this time. He curled his fingers around it and with a proper pull dislodged it from the bottom. The effort made him give up some of the oxygen in his lungs, but he didn't mind. The surface was near. All he needed were a few proper kicks.

Charlie pushed off from the bottom, the object in his hands too heavy to be comfortable... was it a wheel? An anvil? He would see soon enough. He kicked his legs and grimaced. Something was wrong with his left leg, he could just tell. He couldn't get in a proper kick and even though he should've reached the surface by now, it felt as if he was stuck in place.

Charlie's chest was seized by panic.

Things weren't right. Despite his best efforts, he wasn't really moving. The water... too cold, even for an autumn swim... was covering his face like a shroud. Charlie couldn't stand it any longer, his lungs were starting to protest. He opened his eyes. Even in murky water, he would have to see the surface. He could just let go of the object and swim up...

His eyes snapped open.

There was nothing.

No sky. No mud. No surface.

Only utter, breathtaking darkness.

He wasn't in lake Wendouree anymore. There wasn't a murder investigation going on. He wasn't diving to recover evidence. Which meant... there was no blanket and dry clothes waiting for him on the surface. There was no Blake handing him a flask of something strong to chase away the chill, while giving that familiar grin of 'I think I just solved the case'.

Charlie was back underground in the flooded shafts of the old gold mine. He was freezing in the cold water, his breathing coming out in shorter puffs. He was shaking, but this time it wasn't his body's reaction to the cold. This time it was the realization how far his mind had taken him. How easy it would've been to get lost in the memories.

Charlie let out a sudden shout.

"Help! Anybody? I'm here, god damn it!"

He was angry. At himself, for being scared. At the others... for not coming. At his stupid brain which seemed to be working against him.

Mostly, he just wanted to shout and scream, because maybe someone would hear him. Or maybe he just wanted to hear a voice, anything else but the splashing of the water or rattling of teeth.

Though the rattling was gone now. And the cold... it didn't feel so bad anymore.

Charlie knew that was wrong. He should be shivering, he should be feeling pain from his leg and cut up hands, but in truth his body just felt numb. His mind felt sluggish. And with the darkness it was harder and harder to recognize whether his eyes were even open. Whether his head was above water... and whether he was dreaming or not.

Until something touched his leg.

Charlie froze. His heart skipped a beat and the fingers of his right hand curled around a wooden beam in the side wall.

_Something _had touched his leg!

He couldn't move. It was like in those dreams where you saw a monster, wanted to run but just couldn't. His muscles froze up, while it felt as if his heart will jump out of his chest any second. Any moment, as soon as whatever was in the water touched him again. What was it?

A fish? A snake? Some creature dwelling inside the mines or the ghost of a dead miner, trying to get his revenge for being left behind?

Charlie's teeth started chattering again and he willed them to stop. He needed to hear... he needed to listen for any sound. But none came. No whispers, no growls... not even the sound of something breaking through the surface. Only the quiet and oppressing darkness.

Charlie wasn't sure how much longer he could handle this. How much time had even passed? It was impossible to say. Did he have enough air? It smelled stale and it was becoming harder and harder to catch his breath but he didn't know if it was the lack of fresh oxygen or if it was just his own body rebelling. The fear...

It was as if someone stood just right behind his back. He could've sworn he felt something warm against the back of his neck, but as he swirled around, his arms encountered nothing but the blocked up tunnel. His ears seemed super focused on the smallest of sounds, so much so that his own heartbeat sounded like a pounding inside his skull. It was unbearable.

He had to get out.

Charlie took in a deep breath and dove under the surface.

The feeling of being submerged was like taking a cold shower. He still had a hold on the side wall but was unable to let go... to push forward and risk the current. It was as if something was holding him back and it wasn't just fear.

There was a small voice inside his head. Persistent and commanding.

'_Hold on and wait! Don't do anything stupid, Davis!' _

That was Lawson.

Charlie wanted to tell him to go screw himself. He was tired of waiting.

'_You need to trust us, Charlie. Stay where you are... or we will never find you again.'_

This one was Lucien and Charlie startled.

He knew he couldn't really hear the man. He was under the water, holding his breath and just... trying to get moving. But the familiar voices held him back. The thought of getting lost in the shafts and forever being stuck down there...

If he stayed in one place, he still had a chance someone would find him. If not alive, then... well. At least his family could have a proper burial. Maybe his soul wouldn't be trapped in this cold hell forever then.

His lungs protested and Charlie's body decided instead of him. His head plopped back up through the surface and he coughed, feeling overcome by desperation. He felt like the biggest coward. What would his father think about him? Stuck in a shaft, maybe only few meters from safety but too afraid to try and save himself.

Warm tears trickled down Charlie's face but he didn't try to wipe them off. For one moment, he was almost thankful for the darkness. It would hide his shame.

xox

Time passed. If nothing else, Charlie knew that because the tears had dried up and his face felt cold again. He found himself nodding off more often than not, getting lost inside memories. Reality became distorted. After all, how could one say what was real when nothing changed and the body went numb?

The only thing reminding him he was indeed still in the mines was the occasional feeling of drowning, as Charlie's body went slack and his face touched the water.

Charlie always snapped back up, taking in a harsh breath. Sometimes, when he truly wasn't sure if he was dead or alive, he put more weight on his injured leg. The sharp pain managed to pull him back and clear his head, chase away the imaginary monsters. This was a real feeling, not just something his mind made up. It worked... until it didn't.

Because something tugged at Charlie's waist.

Charlie was miles away, thinking about his mother and younger brothers. Trying to remember the schedule of Ray's boxing matches... or the name of Mikey's new girlfriend. Thinking about the upcoming wedding of his mother with Bernie, who he disliked with passion but who he found himself giving his blessing only a few weeks back.

He was wondering whether the wedding that was planned in two months would go through... or whether his mother would first have to attend his funeral. Dark thoughts inside a dark place.

Then something real had wrapped itself around Charlie's waist and tugged. The feeling was so sudden Charlie wavered and yelped as he landed on his left leg.

Cursing, his hands went to his waist, patting around in the water, feeling for anything that could've caused the feeling when there was another tug, this one just a bit stronger. Charlie took in a startled breath as his hands encountered the rope that was still tied around his waist. The rope the other end of which was probably still lying somewhere at the entrance of the side shaft and which Charlie totally forgot about.

The tugging changed into a constant pull. It wasn't too hard, not like someone or something trying to pull Charlie out, but he could feel movement on the other side. Something took hold of the rope. Something was coming towards him.

Charlie's mind was too clouded to think clearly. The logical part of his mind had shut down in lieu of giving way to the instincts and survival. Something was coming to get him and if he didn't get rid of the rope right this instant...

Charlie was expecting to feel sharp claws digging into his skin any moment. He had to get the rope off or he would surely die some horrible, bloody way. His fingers fumbled, trying to locate the knot he himself made. It was an impossible task. There was something wrong with his hands. Even though he found the knot, his fingers refused to work it properly and the more he tried the more his hands shook. His whole body was shaking, from fear and from adrenaline.

"Come on, come on!" Charlie kept saying chokedly as he felt another tug and he could say it was closer. He instinctively looked the way the tug came from, not expecting to see anything, not even sure his damn eyes were open.

But they were.

And after who knew how many hours he saw light.

The sight of it was so surprising that Charlie took a step back. His leg buckled and the rope around his waist moved just then, pulling him off balance. His mouth was still open as he went under.

Water surged in and Charlie closed his mouth but it was too late. His arms flailed as he quite literally ended up with his butt on the floor. Eyes still open, despite the burning feeling. He couldn't close them... not with the light approaching.

It was surreal.

The water was murky, thanks to his own jerky movements. But it didn't matter. Want as he might, Charlie was unable to discern anything behind the light. It was growing brighter, coming closer and as he felt weariness finally envelope his whole body, Charlie wondered whether this was it.

Was that really some monster approaching?

Or was that the light at the end of the tunnel? Was he dead already?

A rush of air bubbles left his mouth, along with the last of his energy. Charlie knew he should have attempted to get back up and take a breath, but he couldn't. His body didn't react to any of his commands and his eyes were slipping closed just as the light seemed to surround him whole. With a thought that he didn't want to die in the darkness, Charlie's eyes jerked open to slits. He wanted to see what was coming.

From behind the light a dark figure appeared. Charlie couldn't discern it's form, though it didn't look human. But that hardly mattered.

Charlie's eyes closed as the last of the air left his lungs.

It was over. He was done fighting.

There was a tug at his waist, then something seized both of his arms in a tight grip. Charlie felt himself being lifted up into the light.

_Maybe he would see his dad soon._

His face broke through the surface, but his ascent didn't continue. Instead the tight grip gave him a shake and a slap on the back.

Charlie gasped, then coughed, trying feebly to get away from the thing. He was still struggling, causing himself more distress than anything, when the figure pulled down the mask.

It was a person.

Charlie froze in his struggles.

Finally... he was found. And he was still alive.


	4. Chapter 4

The water was murky, even with the torch. Hank had almost missed the first chute. He _would have_ missed it if he hadn't been actively searching for it. The entrance was a bit smaller than he expected in comparison to the main shaft though it was close enough to the point where Davis had fallen for him to find some shelter in there. Provided there was air of course.

Hank had entered the side chute with high hopes. He had met Charlie once or twice during a case, even had a bit of a chat with him at the pub almost a year ago. After all, Hank had studied at the same police academy as Charlie, only a few years earlier. If nothing else, they could commiserate over well known teachers and trainers there.

They weren't buddies because one beer didn't make a friend, but Hank had a pretty good picture of what kind of a person Charlie was. Especially after all the changes at the Ballarat police station. Hank didn't know Charlie well, but he knew Lawson. And if the man trusted someone, that person was worth it.

Hank hoped Charlie would have the same will to survive under the water as he had when facing off a pissed Lawson or dealing with Blake without going bonkers. In Hank's mind, both of those required some guts and integrity. At least a bit of survival instinct.

The first chute was empty.

There was plenty of air and the incline of the chute allowed for it to be without water for several dozen meters until there was some blockage at the end. Hank cursed. If Charlie had been there, his chances for survival would have been great. He could've gotten himself out of the water and waited for rescue for even a day or two, if he wasn't seriously injured.

But the chute was empty and Hank dreaded the idea that the other one would be as well. Because Charlie could have easily been knocked out during the fall and the current would have taken him deep into the underground mines. If that was the case, there was a chance they wouldn't even find his body for decades if ever. Hank swiped his torch around the gloomy chute. Not a place he would want to end up in.

With a sigh, he put the re-breather mask back on his face. He checked the oxygen levels in the tanks on his back, he checked the time. If the maps were right, he could make it to the other chute and back with a few minutes of oxygen to spare. If not... he would have to give a signal to Rick, who was waiting with additional gear at the main shaft.

Hank checked his guide line, just to make sure it was attached properly and it didn't get caught in anything. He dove back into the water and returned to the current, pausing at the exit from the chute to send a signal through the guide line.

He gave one pull, letting Rick know he was okay. He received one pull in response. Waiting a moment, Hank gave two more pulls... the signal for more line. He could feel the line becoming slack, giving him space to move ahead. Hank nodded, grateful that Rick had at least some experience with diving. Hank knew the situation wasn't ideal. He shouldn't even really be there. His experience with cave diving - which was probably the closest to a mine rescue - was minimal and Rick had even less. But they couldn't really wait for the special divers from Melbourne, because those were out at the sea training and wouldn't be back for almost a day. Davis didn't have that kind of time.

Hank let the current propel him ahead, using his body to slow down the motion rather than aid it. He knew the other chute should be somewhere near on the left side. Hank cursed the rain, because it meant there was more water and more mud. The visibility was only getting worse and Hank found himself grabbing at the wall, feeling alongside it to make sure he didn't miss anything.

Finally, there it was. An opening.

Hank veered to the left and put his legs down to ground himself. He took a moment to swipe his torch around, but the water seemed even muddier. Hank frowned. There was no current there, the mud should have pretty much settled, but it looked like something disturbed it.

Hank felt a sliver of hope.

The sliver grew exponentially as the light of his torch caught sight of something familiar. A ragged end of a rope, floating right in front of him.

Could it be?

Hank saw the same type of rope... or rather its remains tied around the support beam at the top of the shaft.

Without thinking, Hank grabbed the rope and gave it a slight pull, wanting to know if it was just floating around or if there was something actually attached to it.

The rope moved, but there was resistance. Hank curled the end of the rope around his wrist and followed it.

The resistance at the end became clear after only few feet. The water sloshed and for a second Hank startled, an absurd notion that there was something dangerous attached to the other end and coming at him flashing through his mind. But that was just a second and Hank was quite aware of his purpose here. His torch finally revealed a figure struggling under the water.

_Drowning_ under the water.

Hank let go of the rope instantly and grabbed Charlie by the shoulders, pulling him up. They broke the surface together but Charlie kept struggling, panic and confusion twisting his face as he fought for breathe.

Hank realized what a shock it must've been... and how scary the situation was. Hell, he haven't spent down there more than twenty minutes but he was already imagining monsters lurking around. And Charlie had been there for several hours now... in utter darkness.

Hank cursed himself and quickly took off his breathing mask, making sure the torch was pointing towards him and not into Charlie's eyes.

The struggle ceased almost instantly as Charlie seemed to recognize him... or at least realize he wasn't some creature from the depths of earth.

Charlie coughed and spluttered and Hank slapped him on the back a few times, hoping he didn't breathe in too much water.

"Hey, it's okay. Let it out," Hanks said encouragingly and tightened his hold on Charlie's shoulder as he felt the man faltering.

"Y-you f-found me?" Charlie asked and his face was full of surprise and relief.

Hank noted there was a stutter to his speech, which was expected. He was more dismayed to see that Charlie was barely shaking anymore. The water fortunately wasn't too cold, but a prolonged exposure was bound to cause hypothermia, especially as Charlie was unable to leave the water.

"Yeah, I did. Man, you don't know how lucky you are," Hank said with a smile. Charlie just blinked, squinting at the light.

The smile left Hank's face. He could feel the body was swaying more to one side. Charlie's eyes were blinking and he looked on the verge of unconsciousness. Possibly the only thing keeping him awake right now was the constant coughing. That last dip didn't do him any favour and Hank felt bad when he realized it might've been his fault. He just noticed the rope was tied around Charlie's waist.

"Sorry for spooking you," Hank said, then looked around the chute. The space was small. He noted the debris blocking the way out and grimaced as he saw a few small holes in it.

"You tried to get out that way?" he asked and Charlie turned his head, blinking at the debris. His shoulders sagged.

"Yeah," he said in between coughs, shaking his head in disgust. There was barely a dent, only an evidence of useless effort.

"Hey, you wouldn't have made it through even with an excavator. Don't sweat it."

Charlie shrugged and the movement sent him reeling. Hank pulled him closer, just before Charlie could take another dip in the water. His strengths were obviously waning quickly, especially as he realized help was there and he didn't have to fight anymore. But Hank worried, because they weren't outside yet and there was a problem of how to actually get his charge out safely.

"Hey, I need you to stay awake a bit longer, Davis, okay?"

Charlie grumbled and gave him a glare, but it got lost in a wince.

"Are you hurt?" Hank asked and wanted to slap himself. That should have been the first thing he asked. After all, Charlie took a pretty bad fall down the shaft and it was a miracle he was even alive, never mind conscious and talking right now.

"Hey, answer me," Hank said and repeated the question, while giving Charlie a light shake. The man seemed to be zoning out on him and the last thing Hank wanted was to have him unconscious before they figured how to get him out.

"Busted... leg," Charlie said after a moment too long.

"Anything else?"

Charlie shrugged, either unwilling or unable to answer. Hank cursed. He took hold of Charlie's wrist and tried to get his pulse. It was slower than it should have been. He shone the light into Charlie's face and got a slow reaction of pupils, but at least they reacted and neither one was bigger than the other. Charlie didn't seem to appreciate the light after so much time in the darkness. He battled away the torch and Hank noted the bruised and cut up hands. Of course. The man did try to dig himself out at some point.

"Which leg did you hurt?" Hank asked. "Charlie!" he had to call out to get an answer.

"Left."

With a nod, he took in a deep breath, then dove back under the water with torch in hand. He saw the shoeless leg barely touching the ground, and held awkwardly, but there didn't seem to be any bleeding gashes or a protruding bone. That would have to do for now, especially as he wasn't a doctor. He would leave that for Blake and the ambulance crew up at the surface.

He was down barely half a minute but when he got back up he found a rather distracted Charlie.

"Hank ... Where... I... I thought... you left," he stuttered out, gasping for breath and eyes wide. Hank felt instantly guilty for not letting him know.

"No, sorry man. I just wanted to take a look at your leg. It's okay. I'm not going anywhere without you, understood?"

Charlie looked like he wanted to believe him, but there was also doubt. And fear.

"I promise I won't leave you here." Hank said, making sure Charlie held his gaze. After a moment, Charlie gave a small nod.

"Good. Now... I think the best thing to do is to try and get you out as soon as possible. Do you agree?"

"H-hell y-yeah."

"Alright. First, I need to give a signal to my partner that I found you and get him here as well. For that, I need to get back under the water and swim just a few meters away, but I'll be right back, okay?"

Even as he said it he could see the panic was back in Charlie's eyes. He was shaking his head and his hand grasped at Hank's arm in a surprisingly tight grip.

"C-can't we just... swim out?" Charlie asked wide eyed.

Hank shook his head.

"Sorry, bud. You wouldn't make it in the state you are in. And I barely have enough air for me to get out."

"P-please?"

"Hey, I'm just gonna call for help and we will get you out. Trust me."

That seemed to be the hard part. At the moment, Charlie seemed to have trouble trusting anything. He was still looking around the chute and towards the dark water as if expecting a monster to pop out at any second. He was squeezing Hank's arm as if he was trying to reassure himself he was real.

Hank understood, but it didn't make the situation any easier. He had to move and get Charlie out as fast as possible.

"Here... I'll give you my other torch, okay? So you won't stay in the dark. You should be able to see me moving under the water..."

"J-just a minute?" Charlie asked and Hank nodded.

"Just a minute I swear."

There was a slew of emotions running over Charlie's face, until he seemed to settle on one. Resignation. Hank hated to see that, but he couldn't lose time trying to convince Charlie with words. He would just have to make sure he made it back quick.

He handed Charlie his spare torch, put on his mask and went back under the murky water. He only needed to swim to the exit from the chute. Truth be said maybe he could've given the signal from where he was, but he didn't want to risk getting the guiding line getting caught on a rock or one of the wooden panels at the entrance of the chute. So he got there, took hold of the line and gave it three pulls. The signal for object found.

There was a pause, then came one pull from the other side.

'Are you ok?'

Hank gave one pull back in answer.

He waited few more seconds, then gave four pulls. 'Assistance needed.'

There was one pull in reply. Satisfied, Hank turned and swam back to Charlie.

Just in time.

It was obvious Charlie was fighting down panic, the torch in his hand shaking wildly. Hank was sure he would've dropped it already if not for the nifty safety lanyard that wrapped it around his wrist.

"I'm back, I'm here," Hank said as he wrapped one of Charlie's arms around his shoulder to take over most of his weight and give him a bit of a lift from the water. He could feel the ice cold skin shivering slightly against his side and wished there was more he could do, but at the moment this was it. They had to wait.

"It's okay, help will be there soon," Hank said once again, cringing when he heard Charlie cough. It sounded wet and loud in the closed off space. "Man, you got yourself into quite a mess," he noted and Charlie snorted.

"W-wasn't... the plan," he said wearily.

Hank also snorted.

"Definitely wasn't planned out. But... you should know, the kid is okay."

Charlie froze, then turned away. It was as if he had forgotten the reason for this whole mess in the first place and now he looked ashamed.

"G-good," he said after a moment. "How... how long?"

"How long were you there?" Hank guessed the question. Charlie nodded.

"About four hours I think. I'm not sure, I arrived a bit later."

Charlie blinked.

"What?" Hank wondered.

"F-felt like... ages."

"I'm sure it did. But it'll be over soon," he said, hoping he was right. As if in answer, he felt a slight tug at his guiding line and saw the light under the water.

Rick, the fire fighter had emerged from the water, hauling a spare oxygen bottle and a mask with him. He pulled down the mask from his face and gave a wide grin upon seeing both Hank and Charlie.

"You're alive! Great! Cap will be happy he won't have to deal with Lawson for too much longer then," he said jovially and handed the bottle and the mask over to Hank.

"Here. So... what's the situation?" Rick asked, while giving Charlie a quick once over. He noted the slumped position as well as the blinking eyes and unfocused look.

Hank cast a glance towards Charlie as well. He didn't want to discuss the man as if he wasn't there, but at the same time he wasn't really expecting any input from him. As long as whatever they said won't cause undue panic, Hank decided to be open.

"I'm not a doctor, but I'd say moderate hypothermia, a possibly broken left leg and problems with breathing," Hank added the last as Charlie coughed once again.

Rick nodded, his face turning serious.

"Do you think he can handle the swim back with the equipment? If we lead him?"

Hank shook his head.

"I'm not risking it. It's a miracle he didn't kill himself in the fall, there's no telling if he has internal injuries. Not to mention he's barely shivering. If he loses consciousness or panics, we can get into more trouble."

Rick grimaced. None of those things were good and he understood Hank's dilemma. On one side, getting Charlie out of the water and the cold was priority. On the other, they had to be smart about it or they risked doing more harm than good.

Charlie for his part was frowning at them and looked like he wanted to protest being talked about in such way, but then he started coughing once again. When he stopped, he just wearily rested his head against Hank's shoulder. It was obvious he didn't have much energy left in him.

"So what's the plan?" Rick asked, knowing that Hank had more experience and also a bit more time to think things through.

"The stokes? Your guys have one on the rig, right?"

Rick nodded.

"Yeah."

"Good. Go back and get the stokes, then bring them here. I think it will be the best way for all of us."

"Anything else you'll need?"

"No... just Blake and the ambo ready to go."

"Okay. Hey man, hold on, yeah?" he said to Charlie who gave him a confused blink of eyes. It seemed as if he lost track of the conversation, though he did look a bit panicked as Rick was putting back on his breathing mask and vanished under the water.

"No-" Charlie protested, reaching out.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm still here... we're not leaving you there, okay?"

"Where?" Charlie frowned and Hank wondered if he was getting too confused to know where he was or if he was asking about Rick.

"He went to bring the stokes, so we can get you out. Relax and breathe. We just need to wait a little bit longer."

That little bit felt more like an hour, even though Hank knew it wasn't that long. He tried to have some conversation with Charlie, to keep him awake, but after several minutes it was clear he was too confused to participate in any talking. Hank was getting more and more worried about Charlie suddenly slipping into unconsciousness and he started hoping Charlie would cough a bit more. Not because he enjoyed watching him suffer, but after each bout Charlie seemed to perk up a bit.

Hank couldn't just stand by idly and do nothing however. He moved Charlie a bit, leaning him against the wall while partially still providing support himself. But his hands were now mostly free and he could check the tank Rick brought. Checking the gauge, Hank was reassured the tank was full and it had more than enough air for the way out.

"Charlie, I'll just put the mask on your face for a bit, yeah? I think some oxygen might help you feel better."

Charlie's head turned towards him, reacting to the voice and giving a barely perceptible nod. Hank carefully put on the mask, pausing for a moment when at first contact Charlie seemed to balk.

"It's okay, it will help you breath," he said as he eased it on, suddenly glad he decided to do this now so Charlie would have some time to get used to the feeling.

Charlie lifted his arm, as if to battle the mask off but when he felt the burst of air, he took hold of it instead.

"That's it... nice deep breaths." Hank wondered if some of the confusion Charlie was showing wasn't more due to hypoxia than the cold at this point. Hank knew there must've been at least some air circulation in the chute or Charlie would have most likely been dead already, but that didn't mean it was sufficient enough. And now with there being two of them breathing the same air... things could turn bad quickly. So he let Charlie take several breaths, then took off the mask.

Charlie grunted, unhappy.

"In a few minutes I'll let you have more," Hank reassured him. He would've let Charlie breathe through the mask all he wanted, but he wasn't sure how long it would take for Rick to return with the stokes and he didn't want to risk running out of air in the middle of the rescue operation.

It felt as if time was dragging by and Hank had to admit the space around him was starting to make him feel a bit claustrophobic too. He wasn't sure whether it was better to be in the darkness or see how low over your head the ceiling was... or how dirty the water looked. He looked over at Charlie, gaining more respect for the man. Staying alive and relatively able to communicate after what must've felt like eternity in the darkness was a great accomplishment. Hank shuddered at the thought of being trapped here, without knowing if rescue was coming.

The quiet alone was making him jittery. So he kept talking. Not much or long sentences, but he mentioned seeing one of their old teachers from school with a new, much younger wife.

"Always a creep," Charlie muttered and Hank chuckled. Yeah, the man in mention did have a penchant for young girls, though Hank thought a nice beating from a brother of one such girl would have cured him from it. Obviously not.

"What about you? Anyone ready to be called Mrs. Davis?"

Charlie shook his head.

"Pity. I would've definitely preferred some nice girl's face over Lawson's or Blake's mug in a hospital room," Hank commented and Charlie let out a chuckle, then muttered something under his breath. Hank would have bet it was a girl's name, but he didn't really catch it.

He finally felt a tug on the guide line, letting him know that Rick was on his way. Hank let out a breath of relief when he saw the man emerge from the water, pulling the stokes gurney behind.

"Well, the folks upstairs are getting a bit antsy I'll tell you that... but they are happy we found you," Rick spoke, turning towards Charlie. "Ready to get out?"

Charlie looked Rick in the eyes and despite the wide pupils and loopy gaze, there was some clarity in them.

"Ready," Charlie said.

Rick nodded.

"Good. Now how do you wanna do it, Hank?"

Hank was already looking around the tiny space and wondering about the answer. He took hold of the stokes and moved them towards the wall of debris. He put them at a 30 degree angle with the top leaning against the wall and the bottom pushed against the floor.

"Okay. Let's move him over there," Hank said once he was satisfied with the position of the gurney. He took hold of Charlie, who was for the moment being propped up by the wall and Rick. Charlie eyed the gurney in confusion.

"What?"

"Just come on here, Charlie. Lean against the gurney, like this..." Hank moved Charlie around a bit, struggling to fit with his own oxygen bottles on his back and trying not to hit Rick with them. After a little bit of cursing and dancing around like a pair of drunken guys, Charlie was finally leaning back against the gurney, although he looked more than just a bit confused about the arrangement.

"I'll have to buckle you in now," Hank warned and saw the instant panic on Charlie's face.

"Hey, relax. It's just so you don't slip off... we need to secure you before transport. Don't worry, we won't let anything happen to you."

It took a bit more talking to calm him down, especially as Hank dove under the water to secure Charlie's legs in place. Despite the cold, the ankle was already swelling and Hank grimaced at the thought how uncomfortable it will be before they get Charlie out of the water still. He put on another buckle around Charlie's waist, then emerged from the water.

Rick was speaking softly, telling Charlie what they were doing and why. Charlie on his part seemed frozen in place with fear. His chest was heaving and Hank could see he was fighting the urge to escape. They still weren't done yet though.

"Charlie, listen to me," Hank spoke and put his hand on Charlie's face to make sure he had his attention. "Do you hear me?"

Charlie nodded, eyes wide.

"Here's what we will do. I'll put the mask on your face now, but I need you to try and calm your breathing first, okay?"

It took a moment, but finally Charlie seemed to get the gist of what Hank was trying to say and do. His breathing slowed down to a tolerable level. Still, Hank needed to make sure he won't panic once under the water.

"When I put on the mask, I will need you to stay calm, Charlie. I will have to secure one more buckle around your chest, and there will be the oxygen bottle by your side. Try not to nudge it. Now... once we will be under the water, there won't be many ways to communicate. We will try to get you out as quickly as possible, but if you have trouble breathing or something else happens... use a hand signal, okay? Raise your fist and we will stop if we can."

Hank talked slowly, taking a pause in between sentences, making sure Charlie understood everything.

"Are you ready then?"

Charlie took in one breath, then nodded. Hank tried to ignore the anxious look on his face as much as possible when he put the mask on Charlie's face, securing it at the back of his head. Then he closed the chest buckle and secured the oxygen bottle by Charlie's right side. Once it was done, Hank gave Charlie's shoulder a pat and with Rick's help lowered the stokes gurney under the water. They were ready to leave this joint.


	5. Chapter 5

Charlie knew he shouldn't panic. He wasn't sure why exactly, because his whole body was sending out signals of danger and trouble, but he trusted Hank. There was no other choice really. The moment his head went under the water and he became solely dependent on the mask on his face and the bottle by his side, Charlie knew that panic might just kill him.

The knowledge though did absolutely nothing to chase away the gut wrenching fear when he was once again submerged in the cold water, lost in the darkness. Being immobilized just made it all so much worse. He wished to escape, he wanted get up and just tell Hank he was alright, he could handle the swim back, as long as there will be a torch in his hand and he would be free to move.

Charlie's breathing came a bit faster and he felt that uncomfortable itching in his chest, the one that preceded a cough. He couldn't, not now. Not with the mask on, not under water.

Charlie gritted his teeth and forced his lungs to cooperate. He had to calm down, lest he used up all the oxygen. But what if the bottle was already half empty? What if he used up too much back in the shaft? What if...

Charlie felt the gurney lurch a bit and all thoughts left his mind. He was moving... he could feel the current against his skin. He was turned with his head towards it... he chanced a glance down and saw a dark figure by his legs, shining a torch ahead.

Charlie swallowed the lump in his throat and attempted to do what he was told... lay still and relax. He closed his eyes tight, but it was no good. Being engulfed in the dark and moving around... even though he had plenty of oxygen he felt his throat closing up, reliving the moment he fell into the water and got caught in the current. Not knowing where was up. Not knowing where to go.

His arms went up towards his throat and the mask in panic, but there was something over his chest that stopped him from reaching it. His arms were pinned down over his elbows and there was something over his face...

He had to get it off... he had to free himself or he would drown. But his hands weren't cooperating. He fumbled around, clutching at nothing and everything. He was tied down to something, he was moving... it wasn't making sense. Where was he? What was going on?

Something touched his leg and the motion came to a stop. Charlie opened his eyes wide and tried to jerk back but he couldn't. There was a dark shadow leaning over him, a hand on his chest.

For a second... one of the longest in his life... Charlie thought it was death.

His whole body stiffened, heart beating wild as adrenaline was released into his blood.

The figure patted him on the chest. Charlie was blinded by light and he wondered if that was what dying felt like. But the light had moved and there was a hand tapping his face, requesting his attention.

Charlie opened his eyes and saw a face. A human face, one that looked somehow familiar even with the mask on. A diver's mask.

Charlie's mind cleared up a bit and he remembered where he was. The fall... the wait. The rescue.

The figure over him nodded his head, checking the fitting of his mask, then giving Charlie the okay sign, waiting for a response. Charlie raised his right hand as much as the restraints allowed and gave the okay sign in return.

The movement resumed.

Charlie closed his eyes and thought about sitting on a warm beach, watching his brothers play ball.

He didn't know how long it took to get out of the shaft. At some point the gurney came to another halt and he felt almost dizzy as it changed position. He was going up, he could tell. There was light and it wasn't coming just from the torch.

His face was suddenly above water, his ears, albeit clogged with water, could hear the sound of voices up above. Excited calls, questions aimed at his rescuers.

The gurney he was on was still in the water, but Charlie's head was above the surface. He saw Hank, now without the mask right next to him, while another man was propping up the gurney by his feet so that it didn't sink back down. Charlie really wanted to be able to move.

"It's okay, we just need to secure the gurney to the ropes, so they can pull you up," Hank explained and took off the diving mask protecting Charlie's eyes. Charlie blinked, adjusting to not having his sight blocked by anything. He moved his hand, indicating he wanted the oxygen off as well.

"Give us a moment. I don't want to risk the gurney slipping under."

The gurney was turned and Charlie felt tugging at the sides as the ropes were secured. The gurney seemed to be at least a bit more stable. Hank and Rick re-checked it and finally Charlie was ready to be pulled up.

Hank was by his side, checking the gauge at the oxygen bottle.

"Plenty of air left. Why don't we leave it like that? Won't hurt to have you on some air for the way up."

Charlie frowned. He wanted to be able to communicate, even if he could barely string up two words.

Hank seemed to understand at least. He adjusted the strap over Charlie's chest so that his right arm could move a bit more.

"Here. Now if you really need to talk, you can take it off. But... I'd advise you to leave it on."

Charlie still reached up and took the mask off, taking a deep breath. He let out a cough that was threatening to come for quite some time now. Once his breathing calmed down a bit, he looked at Hank.

"Thanks," he said, voice barely a whisper. Hank smiled and nodded.

"You can thank me by buying me a beer next time we meet," he said and pointed for Charlie to put the mask back on. "Now... the ride up might be a bit uncomfortable, but it will be over quick. Try not to move around much and you will be up even faster, yeah?"

Charlie nodded. He wasn't looking forward to it. There was the fear that the rope will snap once again and he would plunge under the water, this time restrained and unable to escape. With that thought set in his mind, Charlie put the mask back on. If he had to fall, he better have some air.

There was a pat on his shoulder, then Hank called upwards: "Ready!"

The movement felt jerky at first and despite Charlie holding still, the gurney kept turning this way and that. It was dizzying under the best circumstances. Charlie's circumstances weren't good. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying for this to be over, praying not to fall and not to get sick to his stomach. He could hear men shouting, he could hear directions being called out.

'Pull!'

Charlie started counting.

He counted to three between each pull, each turn of the damn gurney.

There was a sudden jerk on the line and Charlie yelped, one hand grasping at the oxygen mask, the other grasping at the edge of the gurney with all his might. The voices were loud and they were all around him as the direction of the movement changed.

It was all too much for Charlie. The sharp sunlight shining into his eyes after hours of darkness... the noise of people and equipment after the quiet... the gravity itself after spending who knew how many hours floating in the water. Worst of all was the slight wind that felt like ice pricks against his wet skin.

His senses were overwhelmed, his body too tired from all the struggle. He felt like the earth could swallow him right then and there, but just the thought of it sent a jolt of fear through his body. It was enough that he could open his eyes to a slit, squinting.

There were people all around and he was still moving or being moved somewhere. But there was a hand squeezing his shoulder and a familiar voice calling his name.

"Charlie? Open your eyes, come on." Another squeeze on his shoulder and Charlie tried to identify the direction from which the voice came.

"Is he alive?" A gruff voice asked, concern clearly palpable. Was that Lawson?

Charlie frowned.

He tried to move his arm and take off the mask from his face. He wanted to ask what was going on. Why was he so cold... why did everything feel so _off_? And why was Lawson worried?

"Hey, that's it. Here you are, Charlie," Blake said as the movement stopped and Charlie was put down on the ground. Something clicked and creaked next to him, but Charlie's attention was solely on Blake. The man helped him take off the mask, then put his palm... awfully warm palm... on Charlie's cheek in what should have felt like a friendly cradle but right now felt more as if Charlie put his face against the oven. He pulled back with a hiss.

Blake looked a bit apologetic and moved his hand down towards Charlie's neck. Charlie didn't have the energy to brush him off, but he let out a sigh of relief as the hand vanished soon after. Someone else began to unbuckle the restraints securing him to the gurney and the movement jolted Charlie's leg. Pins and needles ran up his calf, all the way to his thigh and he grimaced at the pain.

"Careful," Blake turned towards whoever did that with a slight glare.

"D-doc?" Charlie spoke, his voice full of questions. He wasn't sure what was going on, his mind too muddled to think clearly. He only knew that something happened and there was danger. But there was also Blake, kneeling next to him. So how bad could it all be?

"Hey, I'm here. You'll be alright, Charlie," Blake said, clearly trying to calm him down. Charlie blinked.

"Wha'... going on?" he asked, looking around somehow fearfully.

"Ah now, that's a question best left for later. First we need to warm you up a bit, aye?"

Charlie nodded, because he thought the idea of getting warm was a splendid one.

"S' cold," he mumbled.

"I imagine it is. Didn't I tell you to be careful, Charlie?" Blake said with a sigh, even as he ran his hand over Charlie's forehead, pushing the wet hair to the side.

Charlie just hummed and closed his eyes.

The world around him became silent and dark once again. What could have Blake meant? After all, Charlie was always careful.

* * *

"Charlie?" Blake gently patted Charlie's face but there was no response. He checked his eyes. Pupils were dilated and seemed slow to react. There was actually no shivering at all at this point and Blake knew Charlie was slipping from mild to moderate hypothermia. He didn't want to risk him reaching the severe stage, because that was just a breath away from coma and organ failure.

"Move him carefully over to the stretcher then cut those clothes. We have to stop his temperature from dropping more," Blake instructed the two medics. They just nodded and followed his orders, having been instructed by the hospital that Blake had the lead on this, at least until they successfully transported the patient. Not like they would have disobeyed at this point. Blake had Lawson standing behind him, frowning and watching the scene with hawk's eyes, though thankfully he at least wasn't intercepting.

Blake watched as the medics moved Charlie over to the stretcher, noting the grimace of pain flashing through Charlie's face. Good. That meant he wasn't that far gone and he still reacted to pain.

"Careful," Blake muttered even though the medics were working efficiently and quickly. They took care not to jostle Charlie any more than necessary. As soon as he was on the stretcher, they moved it inside the back of the ambulance, away from the gawking gazes but also from the wind. One of the medics slipped inside the ambulance, sitting next to Charlie and pulled out a pair of scissors. He went from the soggy pant legs, revealing the bruised and slightly swollen left ankle. Blake was sure the bruising and swelling wasn't so pronounced only thanks to the cold water. While the medic continued divesting Charlie of his wet clothes, Blake checked the foot. He couldn't be sure without an x-ray, but he could feel some deformity around the ankle. But the pulse in the foot was good and there was no open wound, no protruding bone. Except for immobilising the joint, there was really nothing they could do for it. And right now there were more serious issues to deal with.

Once Charlie's clothes were off, the medic covered him with a blanket. Blake pulled himself into the ambulance as well, pulling the blanket down to Charlie's waist momentarily to check for any possible injuries. At first sight there were only various cuts and bruises on the too pale and too cold skin. After a quick check Blake didn't find any deformities or breaks on the ribs or other signs of internal injuries. That were good news, but Blake still didn't relax. The lower temperatures might've been masking too many problems still.

The medic was taking Charlie's vitals along with the temperature.

"How bad?" Blake looked at the medic anxiously.

"28.9°C."

Blake grimaced. It was a bit too close for comfort. Still, it could've been much worse.

"Start an IV of saline and put him on oxygen. We need to keep an eye on his vitals."

The medic nodded, already putting a mask on Charlie's face. The other medic was about to slam the door to the back of the ambulance shut, but Lawson stepped in, signalling that he would do it. The medic shrugged and headed for the driver's seat, waiting for the word to leave.

"Lucien? How does it look?" Lawson asked, one hand grasping the door nervously. Blake looked up from watching the medic start the IV. Charlie wasn't showing any signs of reaction to the procedure and that made him a bit twitchy. He wanted to snap at his friend impatiently, but knew the man was just worried, same as him. The wait for word from Hank was excruciating for both of them and despite the relief at hearing that Charlie was found alive, they were still aware of the possible risks during the rescue. It was early on when Matthew actually asked Blake if they should contact Shirley, Charlie's mother. Blake shook his head then, dread twisting his stomach.

"_Not yet. Wait until Hank searches both chutes,"_ he had said then, because they knew that if Charlie wasn't found in one of them, the rescue operation would turn into body retrieval. But neither men was ready to inform Charlie's family until they really knew.

Blake was thankful for that choice now. Charlie was still in bad shape, but it would be a different call than the one they would've made before.

"He's stable for now," Blake spoke, the 'but' clearly implied in the tone of his voice. "We need to get going, Matthew."

Lawson clenched his teeth, but nodded.

"I'll be right behind," he said and slammed the door shut, giving it a loud pat to let the driver know he can go.

The engine started and the ambulance went off. It left behind several fire fighters who were helping Hank and Rick climb out of the shaft and take off their diving gear. There were also two cop cars securing the scene from several town folks who heard about the boy's rescue.

Lawson was just happy that Rose was out of town right now. He wasn't sure how she would have handled coming to the scene as a reporter only to find her... ex-boyfriend? Lawson still wasn't sure what was between the two of them - in the shaft instead. He still wasn't looking forward to the phone calls he would have to face as soon as he returned to the station.

But that would wait. Right now he turned towards the fire-fighter's captain and the owner of the mine, who was nervously watching the proceedings, knowing full well he might be called to judgment for not securing the place. Lawson wasn't going to let him off the hook, but he had other priorities at the moment.

He asked the fire fighters and the owner to make sure the entrance to the shaft was closed off, especially now that possibly other kids or reporters would want to take a look. He left two of the coppers behind to help out with that, then took the car with Simmons and headed to the hospital. He needed to make sure Charlie was going to pull through.


	6. Chapter 6

The ride to the hospital was thankfully uneventful. Blake kept a close eye on Charlie's vitals, while keeping up a steady flow of words. Charlie seemed to react to his voice at least, his eyes occasionally fluttering open. Blake was a bit disheartened to see that every time it happened, there was confusion and panic in those blue eyes. It seemed that Charlie's own mind couldn't let him escape the mine as easily.

"It's okay, you're safe, Charlie. We got you out," Blake kept repeating each time Charlie's eyes swivelled around the inside of the ambulance, passing by his own face as if he wasn't even there. As if Charlie was seeing something else.

The coughing wasn't helping the panic either. Blake's concern deepened as he realized Charlie must've aspirated some of the water. He gave a listen to his chest, and even through the sound of the car he could tell Charlie's lungs were far from clear.

At least the oxygen seemed to help a bit.

Finally they reached the hospital. Blake was glad there was already a sleuth of nurses waiting. They moved Charlie inside quickly and efficiently, gently transporting him to one of the beds in the emergency department. Doctor Johnson, the head of the emergency department was there taking over the case. Blake rattled off Charlie's vitals and the treatment he got in the ambulance.

"I want a core temperature reading, and hook him up to a heart monitor. Switch the IVs for heated saline and warmed oxygen. Bring in some warming blankets as well."

There was what Blake would call a well organized chaos as the two nurses followed the instructions.

"His left leg seems to have caught the brunt of the fall," Blake spoke as Dr. Johnson stepped next to Charlie and started conducting his own exam. "But I would advise a complete set of x-rays. Especially the chest. I heard some crackles."

Dr. Johnson nodded.

"The technician is on the way. Was he awake at all?"

"He was awake at the scene, but was in and out during the ride. Didn't seem to... recognize me much," Blake admitted with a grimace and Johnson shot him a look. Of course he knew that Blake doted on the boy almost as if he was his own. Johnson grimaced at that. He wasn't fond of dealing with the patient's relatives or close friends, especially not ones that were in the medical field. They just asked too many questions, had too many opinions on the treatment. But this case was a bit different. Johnson actually respected Blake's medical experience and the man never made a mistake while diagnosing a patient; well, not a mistake that would land said patient in the emergency and Johnson's care at least. That was more that could've been said about some of the other GP's operating in Ballarat. So as a professional courtesy, Johnson straightened up from his currently rather unconscious patient and looked at Blake.

"So, what would be your plan of treatment, Dr. Blake?" he asked and made sure his tone was friendly and curious, rather than hostile.

Blake gave him a slightly taken aback look, which turned into a small smile.

"Slow rewarming, taking care of the leg and any other possible injury the imagining shows. I'd advise prophylactic antibiotics and close monitoring."

Johnson nodded. The door opened to let in the x-ray technician pushing the portable machine and Blake left the room for the moment to give them all space to set up. He waited a minute, letting the door slip closed behind him, then walked a few meters away, finally stopping by the window. He leaned his head against it and let out a breath, while watching the sun set behind the horizon, enveloped by clouds.

This horrible day was finally coming to an end of sorts and Blake couldn't be happier for that. He still needed to find out how Kyle was doing and of course call Jean. He was sure she already knew and was most likely on her way, but in case she didn't, well... Blake wanted to hear her voice.

After the scare they had...

He wouldn't wish it on anyone. Finding out Charlie had fallen was bad enough. The thought of possibly never even recovering his body... he couldn't imagine what the boy was going through during those terrible hours. But if the look of fear in his eyes during the ambulance ride was anything to go by, it was nothing worth remembering. Blake just hoped that Charlie might maybe forget some of it... if not all of the gruesome experience. But that was a problem of the future. Right now Blake knew Charlie had another fight coming. He might've been out of the mines, but he wasn't out of danger yet.

xox

When Lawson arrived at the hospital it was to see Jean stepping out of a cab and heading towards the entrance. He called out to her and she turned, looking worried but at the same time pissed. Lawson cringed. He knew they should've probably informed her about what was going on, but honestly, the less people worried the better. And Lawson thought that, same as with Charlie's mother, keeping information from Jean was the kinder thing to do.

But it seemed that the jig was up and she was anything but happy about it.

"Is it true? Did you find him?" Jean asked without a preamble, barely waiting for Lawson to catch his breath as he was hurrying to catch up with her.

"Yes. Look, Jean, I'm-"

"Leave it!" Jean stopped him mid sentence. "I understand that you had other priorities, but for goodness sake, Matthew... it had been several hours!"

Lawson wanted to explain but Jean once again shook her head.

"I don't want to hear any excuses right now. We will have to have a nice chat... you, me and Lucien. There are some things that need to be cleared up. But first... I want to know how's Charlie."

"He should already be inside," Lawson uttered, feeling flustered. Somehow Jean had the ability to make him feel like a scolded five year old, despite being in command of the whole Ballarat police station. "Lucien was with him in the ambulance."

Jean nodded, lips thinning at the thought that there was even a need for ambulance. She resumed her walk inside the hospital, Lawson limping next to her without a word.

"And poor Shirley. Did you at least call her?"

Lawson cringed.

"Matthew!" Jean protested, then shook her head with a resigned sigh. She uttered something rather disgraceful at the address of men which Lawson decided to ignore for both of their sakes.

"How did you even know?" Lawson risked asking. Jean snorted.

"The whole town knows by now. Kyle's parents informed the Courier. I wanted to come to the mines as soon as I heard, but..." she paused and Lawson could see a flicker of regret cross her face. She buried it quickly though.

"I wasn't sure I would be of any help there. I called the station and Bill kept me updated. Thank God for that," she glared at Lawson but he tried to shrug it off. He would much rather have an angry Jean now, than to have her distracted at the scene. She was better off not seeing how the situation looked. They finally reached the desk at the nurse's station. Lawson didn't even need to ask, the woman there recognized him instantly.

"They're still working on him, Chief Superintendant. But you can wait in the waiting room down the hall. I'll inform Dr. Blake of your presence."

"Thank you," Lawson grumbled, a bit surprised at the quick help. Jean gave him a look.

"What?" he asked gruffly.

"Seems like your reputation precedes you... _Chief Superintendant,"_ she said cheekily. Lawson let out a sigh and motioned with his hand.

"As she said... down the hall. After you."

The waiting room was empty when they arrived and even though they had seen the nurse from the desk slip behind one of the doors, when she came back out a moment later it was without Lucien.

"Dr. Blake will come talk to you as soon as he can," she said and headed back to her station. Lawson stopped her.

"Wait. Did he say anything? How's Sergeant Davis?"

The nurse gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry, I don't know anything else, Sir. They were running tests and didn't have time to talk to me."

"Thank you," Jean piped in, giving the nurse a smile. Lawson nodded as well and limped over to the nearest chair, flopping down into it with a sigh.

"Waiting it is then," he said, grimacing. He knew full well what waiting meant. Silence that was about to be broken with questions which he mostly didn't feel like answering.

True to his thoughts, Jean grilled him about what happened, every detail of the rescue he could spare, until he had nothing left to say. They spent several minutes in silence until Lawson stood up, tired of the wait. He limped towards the door the nurse previously walked out of, but stopped in front of it, then with a sigh turned and started pacing the hallway. It was no good disturbing Blake right now. If he wasn't coming out to talk to them, even though he must've known Jean was here as well, it meant he had his hands busy with work. In this case that work probably meant trying to keep Charlie alive. Lawson didn't want to risk an untimely distraction.

Finally, the door opened and out walked Blake. Lawson tried to read his face, but the moment Blake noted Jean all he could see was relief. With a sigh he gave the two a precious minute to lean into each other, but that was about all the time his patience allowed.

"Well? How is he?" he growled when Blake seemed to get lost in Jean's embrace, for a second forgetting everything. Lawson sometimes envied the man.

Blake pulled away from Jean with a sigh that was half weariness half frustration. Lawson ignored the latter of course.

"We are trying to stabilize him, to get his temperature up to normal levels."

"How low is it now?" Jean asked with a frown.

"The last reading showed 29.4... which is an improvement."

Lawson shuddered. It sounded still too cold.

"We need to get it up at least to 32°C so that he is out of danger and his own body can take over with the rewarming process."

Lawson frowned.

„What are you talking about?"

„Shivering. That's the fastest way to warm up. Charlie was in the cold water for too long and his body had used up all the energy reserves so he stopped shivering and his temperature dropped faster. We've put him on an IV to help him get back some of the energy he lost as well as using external heat sources."

„So is that all? You just need to warm him up a bit and he will be back on his feet?"

Blake grimaced.

„Unfortunately, hypothermia isn't Charlie's only issue at the moment. If you recall, he fell more than twenty-five meters down a shaft."

Even though he knew about it, Lawson cringed at hearing it said so bluntly. He wasn't the only one either. Jean let out a small gasp and her left hand reached for Blake's, giving it a squeeze.

„I do remember that, I was there when they pulled him out," Lawson grumbled, annoyed.

„He was actually quite lucky," Blake admitted, thinking that 'quite lucky' barely covered the fact Charlie managed to get himself to a chute with breathable air and wait for rescue.

"He has two broken bones in his left ankle and numerous contusions, but nothing else broken. Quite a miracle. Of course he managed to mess up his hands a bit, probably as he was trying to find his way under the water."

They all grimaced at the picture that painted.

"But I think the most problematic will be the fact he breathed in some water."

"Didn't he cough that up?" Lawson commented, remembering hearing Charlie cough in the ambulance but also his own experience with dunking in water as a kid. Sure he managed to get in some water during a swim, but that was never really a problem.

"Well, he got in a bit more and most likely repeatedly. It's much harder to force the water out when one is trying not to freeze and drown," Blake said solemnly. "The water down there also didn't have to be all that clean. It carried debris from the rains and whatever was left over in the mines."

"So what are you saying? That he can't breathe?"

Blake sighed and ran a hand over Jean's back soothingly, although it looked more like he wanted to keep himself calm when dealing with Lawson. They were all tired and worried and snapping at each other won't help.

"Right now we have him on supportive treatment. Warmed oxygen and we started him on antibiotics. We need to wait for his temperature to return to normal... and hope it won't start climbing."

"Nothing else that can be done?" Lawson asked worriedly and Blake shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, Matthew. But... he is receiving the care he needs."

"Good. Now - do I need to call his mother to come here as soon as possible, or can I tell her things will be alright?"

"Tell her what happened and that we will keep her informed about any changes," Blake said after a moment. He didn't want to give out false promises but he also didn't want to scare the woman unnecessarily. "I'll call her in the morning with an update on his condition."

Lawson nodded. He wasn't looking forward to the phone call, but it was still better than the alternative. Before he headed towards the phone though...

"Can I see him?"

Blake hesitated but then nodded.

"Sure, though only for a few minutes. He needs to be monitored closely right now and the nurses might object to too many visitors."

Blake led them both through the door and down into another room. At first Lawson thought they had the wrong room. He couldn't see any skin on the bed... just two blankets wrapped tight around a figure. There was something bulky hiding under them at the end of the bed, possibly the casted leg. Charlie was covered up to his chin. There was a warm compress on his forehead, partly hiding his closed eyes and an oxygen mask hiding the rest of his face. His arms were also tucked beneath the blankets, though Lawson could see several catheters and leads sneaking out towards the machine and the IV stand on the side. A nurse was recording his vitals and looked up at the sound of the door opening. She glared at the newcomers until she spotted Blake.

"I'm bringing in a few visitors, Gladys. We won't get in the way, don't worry."

Nurse Gladys nodded, even putting a small smile on her face.

Lawson didn't notice. His face was contorted in the usual grimace when he saw something he didn't like. Right now, he really hated to see his man laid up, surrounded by machines and unconscious. Charlie looked too still... too vulnerable. Too young.

"Oh Charlie," Jean sighed and walked next to the bed, instinctively reaching out to move the compress on his forehead just a bit up, because it slid down towards his nose. She looked up, but the nurse had a look of understanding on her face and smiled.

"He's holding on. Temp is climbing," the nurse said somehow encouragingly. Jean wanted to smile at that, but her fingers just brushed over Charlie's cheek and felt the cold skin underneath.

"He's so cold," she muttered. "Can he... was he awake at all?"

"He is in and out, but I don't think he will remember much," Blake admitted, stepping next to Jean, giving her a half hug and rubbing her arm. She nodded and leaned over a bit.

"We will be here, Charlie. Just get better," she spoke softly and as she ran her hand over his hair, he slightly moved his head, eyes moving under the eyelids, but not opening. He let out a soft sigh and settled back.

Lawson watched from the sidelines, feeling out of place. Still, he gave Charlie's unhurt leg a pat and grumbled something about 'Get better, Davis', then he excused himself to go and call Charlie's mother. Suddenly it seemed to be an easier task than staying in the room.

"Can I stay a bit longer?" Jean asked, giving the nurse a hopeful look. The nurse in turn looked at Blake.

"For a bit. Then you better go home. It'll be a long night and there's no sense in you staying up all night in the waiting room."

"What about you?"

"I'm staying right here," he said and by the tone of his voice Jean knew there was nothing that would get Lucien out of the hospital room, sans fire. And he would make sure Charlie was out first even then.

So they settled in. Jean pulled up a chair and sit down, but made sure she had one hand in contact with Charlie. She kept running it soothingly over his blanket covered arm or occasionally brushed his hair. She wanted him to know he wasn't alone and it seemed to help. Charlie's eyes occasionally fluttered open and his face turned slightly towards Jean, but even she could tell he wasn't really there.

Blake had occasionally left the room, using the fact Charlie wasn't alone to take a small trip to the reception desk and check up on Kyle Bradley. He found out the boy was alright, only being kept for observation until the morning. Mostly just dehydrated, a bit hypothermic as well. He had a broken arm that was already in a cast. Blake was relieved to hear that and was about to return to Charlie's room, when he changed his mind. The boy might've been alright, but that didn't mean he was okay. Blake remembered how distracted Kyle had been upon his arrival to the scene and the boy had seen Charlie fall after all. Blake felt the need to make sure personally that Kyle was doing alright and to inform him that Charlie was found as well.

The room was almost dark, occupied by two adults. The child in bed seemed to be sleeping, although a bit restlessly if the tossing and turning was anything to go by. Blake cleared his throat at the door and the parents looked up. The mother was sitting on the bed and running a soothing hand over her child's hair, much in the same manner Blake saw Jean do just a few doors down. He felt his lips twitch in a small smile.

"Dr. Blake?" Kyle's father stood up and walked towards the door.

"Hello, Jack. I just wanted to stop by and see how is Kyle doing," Blake said as they stepped outside of the room.

"Good, thank you. The doc said he would let him go in the morning. He's just a bit restless. The whole thing..." Jack shook his head, running a slightly shaking hand over his hair nervously. "And I thought giving him all those books about exploring was a smart choice."

Blake snorted.

"You can't help it, Jack. Kids do love to explore. And maybe some of that saved his life. After all, he held out all night on that ledge with a broken arm."

"Yeah well... I would've been happier if he was at least a bit afraid of things and stopped trying to get into dangerous places."

"I think this might've put things into some perspective," Blake said a bit somberly.

Jack Bradley nodded, his face turning into a frown.

"What about the copper? The one who pulled him out? Kyle... he keeps asking and we don't know what to tell him. Is he..." Jack didn't finish and Blake felt an involuntary shudder ran down his back.

"We got him out. That's... actually, that's why I came. I wanted to tell Kyle that Charlie is out of the shaft... just a few doors down."

"Oh, thank God," Jack's shoulders slumped down in relief. "I can't even... I wanna thank the man so much! I don't know what we would've done. And Kyle... he will be so relieved to hear the cop is alright!"

Blake grimaced a bit at that.

Jack frowned.

"He is alright, no?"

"He's... not out of the woods yet, but he should be alright in time, yes." Blake didn't feel the need to go into details and Jack sensed that. He gave a nod.

"I'll let Kyle know as soon as he wakes up. Could you... keep us posted? We would really like to thank him... Charlie was it?"

"Sergeant Charlie Davis. I'll let you know, don't worry. Take care of Kyle. I'll try and stop by in the morning if there will be time."

Blake returned to Charlie's room. There was no change, except that Jean and nurse Gladys now seemed to be talking about crocheting tips. Charlie's face was blank, his breathing a bit ragged but calm. Blake wondered if the topic didn't put him into a coma faster than the cold water could.

Jean and nurse Gladys hit it off pretty well and in between the vitals check, they managed to share several recipes and cooking tips. Blake almost fell asleep himself once or twice, but the sound of the heart monitor kept him awake.

It was over an hour later as there was a shift change and Gladys had left the room momentarily to fill in her replacement. Blake took over her place and he was just checking Charlie's pulse the old fashioned way, by taking hold of his wrist, when he noted the miniscule shivers.

He frowned a bit, then checked the temperature. It was up to 32°C. That was good. What was even better was when Charlie's hand twitched, the lightly bandaged appendage turning towards the source of heat. Or rather the source of the cold, as Blake had previously uncovered Charlie's arm.

"What's wrong?" Jean asked, worried. Blake shook his head and covered Charlie's arm.

„Nothing's wrong. His body is finally taking over the warming process," Blake reassured her with a smile.

Jean looked at him a bit doubtfully, especially as Charlie made a sound and tried to curl up on his side, dislodging the warm compress and the oxygen mask at the same time.

"Whoa there, Charlie. Relax," Blake soothed and with Jean's help moved him to lie back in the previous position. Charlie grunted, but didn't open his eyes and as fast as it came, his strength seemed to leave him. He was out cold again. Blake and Jean shared a look of concern. Blake checked that Charlie didn't dislodge any of the leads and IV's he had attached and that the mask was back on.

"Looks like he's becoming a bit more awake," Jean commented.

"Yeah. He should be less confused as his temp comes up." But he might also be more combative, Blake thought and settled back in his chair. He expected that the night would be anything but restful for both of them. However, that didn't mean that Jean needed to be here as well.

"It's getting late. Why don't you head home, Jean?"

"I'd rather stay. Maybe wait until he wakes up..."

"That might take a while."

"I don't want to leave you alone," Jean protested and Blake stood up and walked over to her, pulling her up into his arms.

"I won't be alone, dear. But I will most likely stay up all night."

"I can keep you company then."

"No sense in both of us being tired. Go home, get some sleep. There should be someone awake when Charlie's mother comes or calls."

Jean looked like she wanted to protest again, but with a look at the currently sleeping Charlie she relented.

"Alright then, I'll go home. But if something happens..."

"I'll let you know," Blake said quickly, only to receive a frown and a slap on the arm.

"Just like you did about Charlie falling into a mine shaft?" she said reproachfully and Blake grimaced.

"I didn't want to worry you, dear," he said, trying for an innocent look. Jean didn't seem to buy it though.

"I _promise_ I'll call you this time. If there's a need. Let's hope there isn't."

She nodded and gave him a kiss. She then leaned over Charlie and gave him a peck on the top of his head, running her hand down his cheek. He felt warmer at least.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Charlie. Don't you dare get worse or I'll tell Matthew it was you who hid his hat last month." She was expecting at least some reaction to the threat, but none came. With a sigh, she left the room just as the new nurse stepped in. This one gave her a scornful glance that clearly said she wasn't welcome. Jean would have challenged the look if she wasn't already on her way out. It didn't matter anyway. Gladys would be back in the morning. Jean just wished Lucien and Charlie wouldn't have to deal with the put out looking woman.

Blake watched Jean leave and barely contained his sigh at seeing who the night nurse was. Lillian... almost ten years his senior. She was known to be stern and grumpy towards doctors, though at least she had a soft spot for the patients. She would make sure Charlie didn't get into trouble, but Blake's prospects for the night just turned all the more sour. There was nothing they could really talk about. With a sigh he leaned back in his chair, watching as Lillian rechecked everything and wrote down a new set of vitals. On the bed, Charlie shivered. There was rapid movement under his eyelids and the heart monitor showed a minutiae increase in heart rate.

"It's alright, Charlie. We found you. You're safe," Blake reached out a calming hand and watched as the stats slowly returned to normal. The eye movement was still there though and Blake wondered just what was Charlie dreaming about.


	7. Chapter 7

As his temperature increased, Charlie's restlessness grew as well. The shivering became so strong that Blake could feel the bed shaking and Charlie's eyes blinked open more and more often. The only good news was that as he was getting closer to normal, nurse Lillian wasn't needed by his side constantly. She dropped by every twenty minutes for a check, but otherwise left all the care to Blake.

He much more preferred staying in the room alone with Charlie, even through his restlessness, than be in silence with the stern nurse.

"C-cold," came the muttered groan, which then turned into a cough. Charlie struggled to free his hands from under the blanket, momentarily panicking when he couldn't do even that. Blake quickly eased the blankets a bit lower and helped him sit up on the bed, but put his hand on Charlie's when he reached to take off the oxygen mask.

"Keep that on," he said, rubbing his other hand over Charlie's back as he tried to catch his breath. When the coughing finally stopped, Charlie's body was wrecked with shivers and he gave a pitiful moan. Blake helped him lie back down, although he made sure he was a bit inclined, then he reached for the stethoscope and gave Charlie's lungs a quick listen.

"W-what's wrong?" Charlie stuttered, looking around the room in confusion. Blake pulled the blankets back up to his shoulders and this time Charlie wasn't trying to fight him off.

"Do you remember what happened, Charlie?"

Charlie frowned, looking a bit put out by not getting a straight answer.

"No, I... where-" he looked around dazedly, blinking when he tried to move and some of the lines he was attached to pulled on his skin. "-spital?"

"Yes. You really don't remember?"

A recognition flashed in Charlie's eyes.

"I fell?"

Blake nodded. He watched as Charlie scrunched up his face, closing his eyes with a groan. Then he seemed to burrow deeper into the bed.

"S-still cold," Charlie complained as he opened his eyes and looked at Blake almost accusingly.

"I know. Sorry about that. We are doing what we can to warm you up."

Charlie grunted and once again tried to turn to his side and curl up.

"Whoa, stop. I know lying like this might be a bit uncomfortable, but you have a broken leg." Blake didn't even have to insist too much. Charlie's face scrunched up in pain as he actually moved his broken leg without thought. He uttered a curse but let Blake move him back onto his back without a fight.

"Come on, that's it," Blake said and propped up the pillow so Charlie had at least an easier time breathing. Even the small effort caused him to start breathing faster and it was obvious he was fighting the urge to cough.

"You need to take it easy, Charlie," Blake admonished him slightly even as he put his hand onto Charlie's forehead. They had discarded the warm compress a while ago as Charlie's shivering kept throwing it off anyway. Charlie now leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.

"No sudden moves or leaping out of bed," Blake said with a smile, expecting a glare or a retort, but none came. Charlie was once again asleep.

Blake looked at his watch and noted it was almost three in the morning. Charlie had the right idea, but somehow Blake felt reluctant to follow him. But in about fifteen minutes Lillian would come in to check Charlie's vitals and scribble them down on the chart. Closing his eyes for ten minutes didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.

* * *

Someone was shaking his shoulder. His body was stiff and he could feel the hard armrest of a chair pushing against his side, no doubt already leaving a mark. Blake opened his eyes with a bit of surprise. It was daylight. A glance at his watch told him it was almost seven in the morning. The person shaking his shoulder was nurse Lillian.

She didn't look stern. More like... amused.

"Dr. Johnson will be in shortly. I thought you'd prefer to be awake for that."

Blake sat up straight in the chair, barely noticing a blanket slipping from his legs. He didn't remember getting a blanket.

"Charlie?" Blake asked, his eyes set on the figure on the bed. A rather restless figure.

Gone were the warming blankets, though the paleness of the skin was still there. Charlie was now propped up on several pillows, still hooked up to everything. He was awake, but looked rather miserable. He gave Blake a small wave with his left hand and reached up towards the mask with the right one, but let it fall back to his lap quickly when nurse Lillian threw him a warning glance.

"Keep that mask on, young man," she said rather unnecessarily. Blake ran a hand over his face.

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"My job is to care for my patients, not stubborn doctors," Lillian said and despite his obvious misery Charlie snorted, then quickly camouflaged it as a cough.

"I wouldn't have guessed," Blake shot the nurse a glare, which changed into a grimace as he stood and stretched his joints. Sleeping in the chair should have been considered torture and he wasn't sure if the blanket wasn't there to facilitate it. Lillian was definitely evil.

"Hey, Charlie," he said with a smile, glad to see the boy awake and mostly coherent. "Sorry for falling asleep on you."

"S'okay, Doc," Charlie said and Blake frowned at hearing a slight wheeze.

"What are his vitals?" he asked and Lillian was already handing him the chart. His frown deepened. Charlie's temperature had reached normal around five in the morning, which was when per orders Lillian removed the warming blankets and put Charlie back on normal saline and oxygen. However, as Blake had already expected, things didn't stay normal for too long. Around six in the morning, Charlie's temperature started climbing. Within few hours, Charlie went from hypothermia to a slightly elevated temperature. He was really hoping it wouldn't turn into a full blown fever.

"How's... Kyle?" Charlie asked, squirming a bit when Blake motioned for him to lean over so he could give him a listen.

"Kyle is doing well actually. I'm more worried about you. Deep breath?"

Charlie grimaced but followed the commands without protest. Blake finished his exam and turned to Lillian, giving her new instructions for tests. She nodded and left to get what was needed.

Blake waited till she was gone, then sat on the edge of Charlie's bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Charlie admitted.

Blake nodded. The shivering and the restless night probably took a lot out of him.

"Chest feels... kinda tight," Charlie added after a moment, one hand fiddling with the oxygen mask nervously. "Can I... can I take this off?" he asked pleadingly. It was obvious the mask was bothering him.

"I'd rather you keep it on," Blake said but seeing the dejected look on Charlie's face quickly added: "at least when you have trouble breathing. Or nurse Lillian is around," he winked and Charlie pulled the mask off his face before he could change his mind. He took a breath without it, then gave a relieved grin.

"Better?" Blake asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. It... it just felt... too much like when I was... under," he explained and Blake gave an understanding nod, cringing internally. He should've thought about it. Maybe that was one of the reasons behind Charlie's nightmares last night.

"Do you remember if you breathed in some water?"

Charlie blinked, then his lip twitched.

"When?" he asked and Blake's eyes narrowed. Charlie sighed. "A few... times," Charlie said after a moment. "Saw... white light."

Blake's eyes went wide.

"Bloody hell, Charlie!"

Charlie shook his head.

"Was just... Hank." He smirked. The darn boy smirked. Blake thought he might just smother him right then and there. He let out a breath.

"Really? You think it's a smart idea to scare someone who has a say in your treatment? And how long you going to stay here?"

Charlie's face paled a bit. Blake took pity on him and patted him on the leg.

"Relax. I was just teasing."

"Not funny, Doc," Charlie frowned.

"Yeah well, you started it."

Charlie looked at him, blue eyes full of innocence. Blake sighed.

"What am I gonna do with you?" he asked rhetorically but Charlie took him serious.

"Let me... go home?"

"Maybe when you can say a full sentence without having to pause and catch your breath," Blake admonished.

Charlie sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He was trying to ignore the IV, but couldn't stop fiddling with the edge of the bandage on his right hand.

"What happened to your hands?" Blake asked him out of the blue, having wondered about the wounds earlier.

Charlie fidgeted on the bed.

"Tried to dig myself out," he muttered under his breath. Blake frowned, deciding that maybe having a chat with the diver who pulled Charlie out would be beneficial after all. If nothing else he should thank the man.

"How... how long will I have to stay?" Charlie asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"If the chest infection clears up quickly, one or two days," Blake said and Charlie's face lit up a bit. Blake quickly continued, before Charlie could think that he'll get off scot free that easily. "But you'll be off work for few weeks with that leg."

Charlie's face fell.

"Wonderful," he muttered, glaring at the casted leg as if it was at fault. Blake shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. He was just happy Charlie was alright. He would take him being grumpy any time of the day rather than him being missing or worse.

"It indeed is," Blake said indulgently and gave Charlie's good leg a pat.

"Good to see... someone's happy about it," Charlie commented with a raised eyebrow. There was a clatter behind the door and Charlie grabbed the oxygen mask, as if to quickly put it back on. But the door stayed closed and he let out a breath.

"I thought... it was the nurse," he grunted and Blake chuckled.

"Not funny. She's... scary," Charlie added in a whisper.

"Oh yes, she definitely is," Blake agreed. "But at least I know she can keep an eye on you when I go home."

Charlie gave him a put out look, but didn't protest. Instead, he took an exaggerated whiff of the air and scrunched up his face.

"You should. Or I'll have to... put that mask back on," he said, attempting to sound serious.

Blake swatted his leg.

"You trying to say I need a shower?"

Charlie shrugged.

"One of us... does. No offense, doc. But... you look like... hell," Charlie said with a grimace, then coughed.

"You're the one to talk," Blake spoke with a sigh, wondering how smart it was to actually leave. But Johnson was one of the better doctors at the hospital and Charlie seemed to be doing better.

"I've a reason to... look miserable. You don't."

"Point taken," Blake agreed fondly. "I'll leave you in the gentle hands of nurse Lillian as soon as she returns."

Charlie's eyes widened a bit and Blake almost told him to relax, that Lillian's shift was soon over. But then he remembered Charlie's cheeky comments and decided to let him stew a bit. After all, if it kept him in line and a good patient, who was Blake to argue.

* * *

Charlie watched with half hooded eyes as Blake finally left the room. He felt at the same time relieved and anxious about the fact, which didn't help his mood any. But at least with Blake gone, he didn't feel the need to hold it all together.

Of course there were still the nurses and doctors making rounds, technicians taking blood samples as if there was no tomorrow. Charlie bore everything with a tight smile on his face and gritted teeth. He was feeling uncomfortable enough without being poked and prodded but there wasn't much he could do to escape the attention. Until finally, after trying his best at a measly looking breakfast, he let out a big yawn. Nurse Lillian took the half empty tray from his hands before it could slip to the floor and put it away. She fluffed his pillows, took his temperature once more then put the oxygen mask back on his face when he dared so much as cough.

Charlie frowned, but didn't try to take it off yet. He knew realistically the mask was there to help and it _was_ making it easier for him to breathe. On the other hand... the moment he closed his eyes with the mask on, he was overtaken by the feeling of dread. It was no way he could sleep with that thing on.

So he waited, closing his eyes and relaxing into the cushions. He heard the nurse walking around the room, checking things out and scribbling down in his chart, before finally leaving him alone to sleep.

"I'll be back tonight for my night shift, so you better behave, young man," she said as a goodbye and Charlie barely kept himself from moaning. Great. Just his luck to have the sternest nurse to keep him company for the night.

Charlie waited for a full minute, watching the door. Then he pulled off the mask and let out a breath of relief.

Finally alone.

He needed to think. Or rather, he needed to put things into perspective and hopefully clear his mind. Because at this moment, it felt like his brain was mush. Things still felt weird, his body felt strange.

He was glad to have gotten rid of the warming blankets. Even though he didn't remember much from his ride to the hospital and the following night, he was quite aware of the feeling of being trapped. Only this time there was no water, but something much more restrictive. Coupled with the shivering that caught him in the middle of the night, Charlie didn't really get the rest he needed. He was so bloody tired now. His joints and muscles hurt as if he had ran several marathons. Probably the only saving grace was that the painkillers for his broken leg kept most of the soreness at bay. But it didn't help with the temperature.

Something was off, Charlie could feel it. Despite the room having a supposedly pleasant temperature, Charlie's body kept jumping between feeling too hot or too cold. Or just generally, as if his skin wanted to crawl off him. It made him restless, even more so than the growing tightness in his chest.

Charlie tried to find a comfortable position, but once again was stopped by the casted leg. He let out a pitiful groan, but he didn't care. No one heard him right now. He felt entitled to some complaining when he was alone and miserable. As long as no one came in and started prodding him or asking stupid questions.

Charlie wondered how much time had passed. There was no clock visible inside the room. Time was once again relative and Charlie wondered where was his watch. It was probably broken anyway... had been under water for too long. Just like him.

With a grunt, Charlie grabbed the blanket and pulled it up over his shoulders. He felt chilled simply at the memory of being under the water. He closed his eyes and tried to think about anything else. Think about Kyle... about the fact the kid was alive and well. Think about the fact he would be stuck behind the desk for the foreseeable future because of the leg... Charlie moaned, cursing his mind. He should be thinking of other things. Like perhaps his family.

Did they even know what happened to him? Charlie really hoped not. He didn't want to worry his mom or brothers... although as the situation stood lately, Charlie was sure at least Ray wouldn't be bothered too much. But after talking to Kyle... Charlie had a sudden craving to see his younger brothers. To see Mickey and Billy at least. He hadn't spoken to them in quite a long time now. Charlie didn't want to lose them as he lost Ray. Despite Billy being thirteen and Mickey almost seventeen... Charlie still saw them as the little kids they were on the beach.

With that thought, Charlie slipped into restless sleep. When dreams of the day on the beach started changing into nightmares of drowning, Charlie was almost grateful for being woken up by the occasional visit of the nurse or even a visitor.

At one point he startled awake with a gasp that changed into a deep, chest wrecking cough, only to see Lawson sitting in a chair next to his bed, watching him quizzically. Charlie forced down the cough, rubbing at his chest. His ribs were becoming sore from the coughing and Charlie could feel that sooner or later there will be disgusting stuff coming up. Maybe he should ask the nurse to bring him some tissues next time. Right now, he felt parched though and his eyes searched the bedside table.

"Here, let me help," Lawson spoke and leaned over, handing him a glass of water.

Charlie took it, giving a nod of thanks and hoping his hands won't start to shake. He took a gulp and closed his eyes. The water felt heavenly going down his raw throat. He drank it all, pacing himself, aware of Lawson's gaze.

"Enough? Or do you want the rest of the pitcher too?"

Charlie shook his head.

"Boss? What... what are you doing here?" Charlie asked, then cringed. It was a stupid question of course. It wasn't like Lawson didn't visit any of his other subordinates when they got hurt. Charlie just didn't expect his boss to be sitting in his room, waiting for him to wake up.

"I came to check out how you're doing," Lawson said simply and Charlie blinked.

No sarcasm? No reprimanding?

Charlie had a momentary urge to ask Lawson if either of them was dying, but fought it back.

"Uh... I'm good, Boss," Charlie finally said and this time he earned a raised eyebrow.

"Had a good sleep then, eh?" Lawson asked and pointed to the blanket that was bunched up at Charlie's feet, the only thing keeping it on the bed Charlie's casted leg.

Charlie felt his cheeks colour with heat.

"It's... hard to sleep around here," he muttered and tried to lean over to grab the blanket, but had to pause. He moved too suddenly and he felt lightheaded.

Lawson reached out and even though a bit clumsily, he untangled the blanket and pulled it up towards Charlie without a word.

There was a momentary silence broken only by the rustle of the sheets and Charlie's uneven breathing as he was trying to settle back into a semi sitting position without appearing as if he might pass out any moment.

"Sorry, Boss. I'm just... really tired."

"I'll let you get some sleep then. Just wanted to make sure I won't need to start training a new rookie."

Lawson stood, giving Charlie a pat on the leg. He was almost out of the room when Charlie remembered something.

"Boss?" he called out, ignoring the way his voice almost gave out.

"Yes?"

"Did you... call my mother?" Charlie had to ask. "I mean, I hope you didn't, but if so-" he stuttered, not sure what to say.

"I actually did call her last night," Lawson turned back towards Charlie, leaning against his cane.

"Boss-" Charlie groaned.

"Unfortunately, the only person I could get hold of was Bernie. He said your ma was visiting some family down in Sydney."

"Aunt Beth, yeah," Charlie supplied the name and felt a bit of relief. If his mother was in Sydney, she won't be rushing back, especially now that he was alright.

"Bernie said he would call her, but she was due to return tonight anyway."

Charlie sighed. Great.

"Did you tell him what happened?" He really hoped Lawson didn't.

"Not details, but he knows you're in a hospital. You might try to call home tonight if you don't want any unexpected visitors."

"Thanks," Charlie sighed, wondering if maybe he could convince Blake to make the call instead of him. He didn't really want to talk to Bernie and he knew his mom. If she noticed the slightest sign of pain or discomfort in his voice, she would make the trip. And while Charlie loved his mom, he wasn't sure he could handle her concern at the moment. He could barely keep hold of his own emotions as it was.

Lawson was watching him and it looked like he wanted to say something, but kept thinking over it.

"Boss?" Charlie asked, feeling uncomfortable under the gaze. Lawson sighed, bumping his cane slightly against the floor as if coming to a decision.

"I'm glad you're okay, Charlie. But... we will have a talk about what happened once you're feeling better."

Charlie ran a tongue over his chaffed lips.

"I feel okay now," he said, even though it wasn't true. But he would have preferred to have 'the talk' over and done with, preferably while he was still medicated and looking miserable enough that Lawson would feel somehow sympathetic. But Lawson smiled and shook his head.

"That's alright. I think I'll wait a bit. I'd like you to actually _listen _to me for once."

Charlie grimaced and Lawson left the room with a chuckle. Great. Now he could look forward to a lecture at the least and Lawson would have plenty of time to prepare it.

The day didn't seem to be going his way.

He was too tired to stay awake, but every time he fell asleep he was bothered by weird dreams that he couldn't even remember upon waking. He just knew they left him drenched in cold sweat. Or maybe it was the low grade fever.

Each time the nurse checked his temperature she sighed and wrote down the number. Charlie didn't understand what she was so unhappy about. He took a peak at the reading and it was hardly a fever at all. Yet that didn't mean he wasn't feeling crappy. Quite the opposite.

He was alternating between feeling hot and cold and he was all achy, like he was getting a cold. The coughing wasn't helping either. He could feel the tightness in his chest growing and now every time he got into a coughing fit, there was some gunk coming up. Charlie grimaced, automatically reaching for the glass of water to try and get rid of the taste. At least he had plenty of paper towels at his disposal.

When lunch came, he took a look at it and shook his head. Upon some encouragement from nurse Gladys he managed a few spoonfuls of the broth but even that tasted wrong. Everything he put in his mouth had an aftertaste of the water from the mines. Charlie wasn't sure if that was just his imagination or if it had some physical reason, but it put him off eating. His stomach agreed it was the smart decision as well.

Declining the lunch, Charlie decided pretending sleep was the best move. He tossed and turned, trying to get at least some rest.

When in the afternoon Jean came for a visit, Charlie tried to muster up at least some enthusiasm.

"I'm so happy to see you awake," Jean said as she hugged him, her hand running over his hair and resting on his face for a moment.

"You're definitely warmer than you were yesterday."

"Yeah, I actually feel a bit overcooked," Charlie half-joked. Jean frowned, giving him a serious look.

"You do feel a bit warmer to touch than usual though. Maybe I should get the nurse-"

Charlie touched her arm to stop her from leaving.

"It's okay, they know. I think my body's just... overcompensating or something."

Jean made a huffy sound, but let it be for the moment. Instead she reached into a bag Charlie hadn't noticed.

"Here, I brought you some clothes for your stay and something you can put on when they let you come home. I heard that your uniform was... cut up," Jean explained at Charlie's confused look.

"Damn," Charlie couldn't stop the curse. Lawson would _definitely_ kill him. Or well... at the minimum dock his pay and put him on desk duty for the rest of the year.

"Hey, none of that," Jean admonished with a soft smile. "It was hardly your fault. And the boy is safe and sound thanks to you."

"Yeah... that's good at least," Charlie said and let a smile touch his face.

"Clothes aren't the only thing I brought though," Jean said with a twinkle in her eye and Charlie perked up a bit. She rummaged in the bag and pulled out a small box, putting it on his lap. Charlie opened it curiously, only to be rewarded by a still warm batch of chocolate chip cookies.

"Your favourite. I thought you might want something better than the food they serve here."

"Thank you," Charlie said with a smile. He wasn't really hungry... or rather, the idea of eating _anything_ was making him feel queasy, but he was heartened by the thought that Jean made such an effort and brought him his favourite things. Jean looked at him expectantly and Charlie shot a look towards the door.

"Don't worry, I asked your nurse. She said it was okay," Jean said and Charlie hesitantly took a cookie. He took a small bite but despite his best efforts, even the sugary chocolate cookies couldn't beat the taste of the shaft water. With a sigh he put the barely bitten cookie back into the box.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Beazley. They are great, I just... I'm not really hungry for anything now."

Jean nodded, taking the box and putting it into the drawer of the bedside table.

"That's okay, Charlie. These can last for several days and if you don't eat them you can always use them to bribe some of the nurses." She winked, good minded. Charlie nodded.

"Yeah. The night nurse seemed like she could use something sweet," he muttered and Jean chuckled.

"Oh, I've met her and you're right." Jean settled down in a chair next to his bed, the same one Lawson occupied just a few hours earlier. Charlie wondered how comfortable those chairs could be or how many people will sit in that one before he was allowed to go home. He sighed.

"What's on your mind?"

"Just wish I could be home already," Charlie said, feeling a bit sulky all of a sudden. "Hate being laid up."

"No one likes that," Jean commented. "But you'll be home soon enough."

Charlie hummed in reply.

"We are very lucky they found you," Jean said solemnly and Charlie looked up, pulled out of his sulky mood by the slight shaking of her voice.

"I... I know," he said and reached out instinctively. He hated seeing Jean distraught, but he also craved some reassurance. The feeling of her warm hand in his was a stark reminder that this was real... that he made it out. "I didn't think I would," he muttered.

Jean frowned.

"That you would what?"

"Make it out."

"Oh Charlie," Jean leaned over and pulled him into a hug. Charlie didn't fight it. He rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes instead. It felt good to feel another human being. It pushed back the memory of the darkness and cold.

Jean was running her hand soothingly up and down his back, until a coughing fit caught him by surprise. She waited it out with him, her cool palm resting on the back of his neck until the fit ended and he could catch his breath. She handed him the glass of water and helped him lean back on the pillow.

It took Charlie a moment to open his eyes and note her concerned frown.

"Are you alright, Charlie?"

He gave a small nod, but felt his eyes slipping closed.

"Tired," he mumbled even as he tried to calm down his breathing. He kind of wished for the oxygen mask back at least for a little boost, but he knew if he grabbed it now Jean would know he wasn't doing so good. And she would most likely call the nurse or the doctor. Charlie could've used a bit of extra air, but he wasn't about to risk having the mask on his face permanently, especially as he was so close to falling asleep. He would just take a few deeper breaths and rest his eyes. He was sure Jean would understand.

A cool palm rested on his forehead then caressed his cheek, but Charlie didn't feel like opening his eyes anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

"Now Mrs. Dewy, here is your prescription. One pill, twice a day. No more, no less. Understood?" Lucien Blake was handing a small pill bottle over to a frail looking old lady. However, upon finishing up her exam Blake knew she was anything but frail. After all, she came to him to fix her wrist, which she sprained while throwing rocks (and hitting) at a bunch of drunken men that had mistaken her petunia garden for a public toilet. Blake still had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the image it put inside his head.

"Of course, of course... one pill twice," she nodded fervently and was already looking for a way out of his office.

"And no throwing rocks or anything else for the foreseeable future, Mrs. Dewy," Blake said as he handed her the cane. She grabbed it and there was a mischievous smile on her face.

"I won't, don't worry. I have better things on my mind now," she said with a wink and Blake really hoped he won't find out what it meant.

"As long as there will be no dead bodies," he muttered under breath as he held the door open for her. He was just about to return to his office when he saw Jean. She said a polite hello to Mrs. Dewy but didn't stop to chat and even from the distance Blake could see something was troubling her.

"Jean?" he said, approaching her and reaching out. "What's wrong?"

She sighed and tried to put on a small smile, but it wasn't working. Blake pulled her into his arms, putting a soothing kiss on her head.

"Did you go visit Charlie?"

Jean bobbed her head, then looked up.

"I think you should go over there and see him too."

Blake frowned.

"I was planning to stop by before dinner, but I can go sooner. Did something happen?"

"He isn't looking so good. I'm worried."

Blake sighed, running his hand up and down Jean's arm.

"He's actually doing a lot better, dear. The chest infection might be knocking him down a bit, but his temp was back to normal when I left this morning."

"I'm pretty sure he had a fever when I was kicked out," Jean grumbled and Blake's eyes narrowed.

"Kicked out?"

Jean rolled her eyes.

"Alright, maybe I'm exaggerating. But Gladys did escort me out rather quickly after she took Charlie's vitals. Told me to let him rest, that visiting hours are over for today."

Blake didn't like this. Not the fact Jean was forced out and Charlie was left alone and even less the fact he wasn't notified that Charlie's state had changed. He thought he was his primary care giver after all.

"How was Charlie acting before you left?"

"Lethargic? He had a coughing fit and it didn't sound good. Like he was having trouble breathing. He also felt warm and practically fell asleep on me."

That was unlike Charlie. Blake sighed and gave Jean a kiss.

"I better head out there. Thank you for telling me."

Jean nodded and handed him his hat while Blake was looking for the car keys.

"Don't wait up for me with dinner," he said in parting. He was pretty sure he won't make it home anytime soon.

Blake knew there was trouble before he even entered Charlie's room. One of the nurses caught his sight and looked away quickly. Blake clenched his teeth and pushed the door open.

The sight before him made him see white.

There was Charlie, tossing on the bed, moaning pitifully. He was covered in a wet blanket and cool compresses were pressed against his body. There was a red flush on his cheeks, otherwise he was pale as a ghost. His mouth was covered by an oxygen mask, fogging up at every gasped breath he made. His eyes were closed and it was obvious he was trapped in some kind of feverish nightmare, but what made Blake's blood boil were the straps.

_Someone_ \- in their stupid mercy - thought it was smart to tie Charlie down.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Blake bellowed, causing Gladys and another nurse he haven't seen before jump in surprise.

"Dr. Blake! I'm glad you're here. Maybe you can calm him down?" Gladys threw him a pleading look and under different circumstances Blake might've felt a bit more understanding. Not now though.

"What is the meaning of the straps? Who ordered them?" he walked across the room and put a calming hand on Charlie's shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to undo the straps holding his wrists down, but first he needed to know why they were there in the first place.

"Dr. Johnson. I tried to tell him it wasn't necessary, but Sergeant Davis kept trying to get out of bed and pulling off the mask. We didn't want him to hurt himself."

"So you thought the best thing to do was to tie down a man that spent five hours trapped in a closed space in cold water? When you are trying to cool him down?"

Gladys paled a bit at that and Blake felt bad.

"He was fighting us and we couldn't keep him calm. Dr. Johnson didn't want to sedate him yet because of his trouble with breathing."

Blake nodded. He understood the reasoning but it didn't make the situation any easier. He looked at Charlie and was taken aback by how much worse the boy looked now than when he left him this morning. His cheeks were sunken and there was a light sheen of sweat covering the parts of his body which weren't covered by cooling compresses. Blake could hear the rattle in Charlie's chest even without a stethoscope and he worried that things would get worse before they get better. He put his palm on Charlie's face and grimaced at the heat.

"What are his vitals?"

The nurse handed him a chart and Blake noted the rapid incline in the temperature readings. For most of the day it looked like Charlie was doing well, but then it was as if his body just suddenly woke up and tried to compensate for the previous cold.

The contaminated water Charlie managed to breathe in surely didn't help anything.

He couldn't even fault Johnson for ordering the straps. Charlie was rather agitated at the moment and the priority right now was to get down his temperature and give his body a chance to fight off the infection. He noted that Johnson had put Charlie on a stronger antibiotics as well. Medically, there was nothing Blake could've done different. Personally though...

Blake handed the chart back to Gladys then pulled up a chair.

"I'll try to calm him down a bit," he said, nodding to the other nurse that she could go now. Gladys stayed behind.

"Do you need anything from me, Dr. Blake?"

Blake spared her a look, then shook his head.

"Not at the moment, Gladys. Thanks."

She nodded, looking at Charlie thoughtfully.

"I think if you manage to calm him down a bit, we might be able to take off the straps, as long as there will be someone watching him."

"That's what I'm hoping for," Blake grumbled, gently patting Charlie's face and calling his name.

"I'll let Dr. Johnson know you've arrived," Gladys said and when she saw Blake wasn't paying her any more attention, quickly left the room.

Blake sighed. He knew he shouldn't have left the hospital. Well, he didn't _know_ that, but he had a feeling Charlie might get worse. He just didn't expect it to happen so quickly. Poor boy didn't get to catch a break.

"Come on, Charlie. It's alright. You're safe." Blake spoke, hoping his voice might get through. Charlie's eyelids fluttered and there was a groan, but he didn't seem to wake up.

Blake understood the cold blanket wrapped around his body might've been just a bit too much of a reminder of the incident, but there was really nothing he could do about that. Except keep on talking.

Blake settled down in the chair, uttering simple reassurances or telling Charlie about the boy he saved. That he was back home with his parents.

"And they would love to thank you in person, so you better get well soon, Charlie," Blake said and squeezed Charlie's warm hand. That at least seemed to get some reaction.

Charlie's trashing ceased a bit. Blake frowned and gave his hand another squeeze, at the same time calling his name.

Charlie's eyes fluttered and opened to a slit.

"There you are," Blake smiled. "Good boy."

Charlie blinked, eyes going a bit wider. He had a dazed look and it was clear he wasn't sure what was going on. Blake reached up and put his palm on Charlie's face.

"Hey. You with me?"

Charlie grunted and that's when he realized there was something on his face. His eyes narrowed and his right hand went up, reaching for the mask. Only to be stopped by the strap.

Blake cringed at the same moment Charlie shot him a surprised look... which quickly turned into panic.

"Doc?" Charlie asked, his voice almost breathless yet still clear through the mask. "What-"

"Hush, it's okay. Just calm down."

But that was easier said than done and Charlie wasn't exactly listening. His breathing of course became more ragged and his lungs protested. Vehemently.

Charlie started coughing and tried to get up, to get the mask off his face, to do anything but lie there and try to calm down. Blake cursed.

"It's okay, just breathe, Charlie."

Without a second thought he undid the straps on both hands and helped Charlie to sit up.

The coughing wasn't pretty. Charlie was doubled over, hacking away and sounding like a ninety year old man after serving at the mines.

It took over a minute for the fit to be over and Charlie to slump back into the bed, boneless. In the meantime, Blake was there, supporting him, grimacing as he listened to the wet sounding coughs and wheezy breathing. He was hoping the antibiotics will kick in before Charlie's lungs gave up and they would have to intubate. He was hoping Charlie could just catch a break. He didn't deserve any of this. Not for trying to save a boy.

Charlie let out a miserable groan and for a while it seemed like all the energy had left him. Then his arms moved... free of the straps. First thing they went after was the mask. Charlie pulled it off and turned to the side, grasping for something. Blake realized what was the problem and grabbed for some tissues. When Charlie spat out whatever came up, he grimaced at the bad aftertaste. Blake looked around and was happy to find a glass of water at the ready.

"Here, small sips," he held it to Charlie's mouth. Charlie took a sip, then two. The third one went down wrong however and his eyes went wide as he had to cough again.

"Bloody hell," Blake cursed under his breath even as he was putting away the glass and trying to calm the struggling man down.

But Charlie didn't seem to hear him. His eyes were roaming around the room, pupils dilated as if he was trapped in the dark. His whole body was shaking and Blake could tell it wasn't the effects of the fever but fear. Charlie's hands grasped around blindly, searching. One of them grasped at Blake's shirt and clung to it like a lifeline. The other curled around the wet, cold blanket wrapped around his torso.

Charlie froze up. Literally. For a second, he didn't breath, he didn't move a muscle.

"Charlie?" Blake asked with a frown. He put one hand on Charlie's chest, as if to push him back down into the bed, or to feel if he was even breathing, he wasn't sure. Whatever he did though, it was a bad move.

Charlie let out a startled yelp and with more strength than Blake would've thought he knocked Blake in the chest and tried to scramble back on the bed.

Blake fell back gracelessly into the chair, more from surprise than the knock itself. He never would've thought Charlie would hit him. It took him a second to get his bearings and to see that Charlie was moving dangerously close to the edge of the bed. He leaped up to his feet and reached out to catch him just as another pair of hands joined the fray. It was nurse Gladys and between the two of them they managed to manoeuvre the struggling and protesting Charlie to a semi comfortable position. Once there, Gladys quickly strapped his left hand back to the bed and looked expectantly at Blake.

"Sorry for this, Charlie," Blake said even as he closed the straps around Charlie's right arm. He watched as Charlie struggled against the restraints, grunting about cold and dark. About not wanting to die here. Not like this.

Blake felt his chest tighten and stomach twist as Charlie pleaded for someone, anyone to come.

"I'm here. You're safe, Charlie. We got you out," Blake repeated over and over again until Charlie's strength waned and the struggle ceased. There was only an occasional whimper as Charlie once again fell into the traps of his fever dreams.


	9. Chapter 9

Something was seriously messed up with the weather, Charlie thought as he lay in his bed, trying to sleep off the flu or whatever dumb illness he managed to acquire. First it was too cold and he had to pull the blankets up to his chin, even going as far as biting into them to stop his teeth from chattering so much. He was afraid the sound would wake up Blake or Jean and he didn't want to be a bother. Didn't want either of them to see him this miserable over something stupid.

The cold and shivering stopped after a while. The silence of his room was only occasionally broken by his coughs. He couldn't help it. It felt as if there was something sitting on his chest, or rather something buried deep inside that wanted to get out. It was a horrible feeling and the sound he made each time he coughed was wet and disgusting. Charlie cringed, turning into his pillow to muffle the sound and expecting any moment the door to his room to burst open, the lights to turn on.

But nothing happened.

Despite all the distress he was in, all the noise that must've been heard through the silence of the night... no one came.

Charlie felt another shiver run down his spine, but this time it wasn't from cold.

It was a feeling of dread. Something was wrong.

Charlie turned onto his back and sat up on the bed, for a second panicking as the blankets halted his motion. He managed to detangle himself quickly though and sat on the edge of his bed. That's when he realized few more things.

One... the cold was gone and instead the air became stifling hot. It didn't help that his lungs felt too tired to do their job properly. Charlie's skin prickled and he was overcome by a wave of heat. It must've been the middle of summer... and he lay down to bed fully clothed, with the window closed. Charlie cursed and made to stand up, only to crash back onto the bed.

Second thing he realized was that his left leg hurt. He felt like it was hurting for some time now... a bone deep pain. Not sharp and stabbing, well at least not until he tried to put weight on it. Rather... the crawling type of pain, half buried under the haze of painkillers. Charlie frowned.

Maybe that was why his head felt so strange? Well, his whole body did really, but his mind...

It was like swimming through molasses.

Charlie shuddered at the thought.

He didn't want to get close to any water for quite some time, though he wasn't sure why. If it was the middle of summer and so hot, a quick dip in lake Wendouree before his morning run would feel wonderful.

But just the thought of it made Charlie's fingers twist and grip at the edge of the bed. No swimming... and no running either. But he needed to get up and open the window, before he suffocated. If only Blake or Jean would come... or even Lawson. Charlie was feeling poorly enough to ask his Boss for a bit of help, even if it meant dragging the man limping out of his own bed in the middle of the night.

Well, nothing risked nothing gained. Charlie took in a deep breath, then called out.

"Help? Anyone?"

Admittedly, it wasn't the loudest or even clearest cry for help. It still made him cringe... then freeze. Something about the sound of his own voice... or rather, the echo of it... was just wrong. It was so quiet... it should have reverberated through the walls... instead the sound stayed close and muffled.

That's when Charlie realized the third thing. It was dark.

Not your normal type of dark where you could see the shapes of the furniture thanks to the light coming from the window. Not even the darkness of a room in the middle of the night with closed drapes. No... this was a darkness one encountered only in closed spaces. Small windowless rooms without any source of light. Walk-in fridges. Closets. Or caves.

Charlie's heart skipped a beat at that one.

No, he was safe. He shouldn't panic. He was in a familiar place, inside his room. He could feel the bed underneath him... the press of the mattress, the blanket shuffled to the side as he attempted to get out. The sweat soaked sheets.

Then why couldn't he see?

Charlie reached up towards his face... towards his eyes. Maybe he just forgot to open his eyes. Or there was something blocking them.

But his eyes were fine. They were wide open, blinking. There was nothing wrong with his sight as far as he could tell... and Charlie wanted to let out a breath of relief, when his hand slipped a bit down and he felt something else. A mask... over his nose and mouth.

Charlie gasped and felt air flowing against his face. He smelled plastic and something else he couldn't identify, but he didn't even want to. His hands grasped the edges of the mask and he pulled.

For a moment, the mask came down and Charlie took in a big gulp of breath. Only to start coughing and gagging when the smell hit him.

It was water. Not fresh water... but stale. Like it was trapped somewhere. There was a rotten aftertaste and Charlie bent over, spitting out whatever came up from his rebelling lungs. He would've grimaced in distaste, but he was too scared for that. His lungs felt on fire and breathing was a chore, but more than that. When he spat he tasted the same rotten water.

Where the hell did it come from? What was going on? And why was no one coming to help?

"Doc!" he shouted as loudly as he managed once the heaving stopped. There was no response and Charlie shivered. Something wet was running down his face and back and for a second he thought it was water and he panicked. But there was no coldness to it, just the sticky wetness of sweat. He felt _drenched_ in sweat and he wanted to just get off the bed and find some help. Find a window, so he could get some fresh air, or find some people who could explain.

But he couldn't really move. His body was betraying him. Muscles didn't listen to his command and instead of getting up, he felt himself leaning back down onto the mattress.

Charlie wasn't even sure how he could tell at this point. It wasn't like he could see where was up and where was down and the simple thought was sickening to him. Up and down...

The darkness was hell on his orientation. Gravity didn't seem to work anymore and it was so damn hot. Did they get a heatwave?

Charlie's mind was becoming more and more hazy and for a second he almost welcomed the presence of the bed. That seemed to be real at least. He could grasp it, could lie on it. And if he was lying down, he was horizontal. He should know where was up and where was down...

Charlie slipped under. For a moment he couldn't feel anything, couldn't even think. That was good. It was peaceful.

He wished it could've lasted just a bit longer.

What brought him back into his little hell were sounds. Charlie could hear voices. They were far and distorted and didn't belong to anyone he knew. But they were human and Charlie's consciousness grasped at that as if his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

He followed the voices in the best sense he could. There was still the bed, but he could at least turn his head and when he opened his eyes... there was light. Actual light and shapes moving closer to him.

Charlie blinked. Someone... a woman all in white, reached out to him. Her small hand touched his forehead, caressed his face. Charlie leaned into the touch and felt like he could weep with relief. He wasn't alone. There was someone with him, someone who seemed to care. Someone who could maybe help.

"'s hot," Charlie whispered, then coughed.

"Oh dear, you're burning up," the woman said and pulled away her hand. Charlie moaned, lacking the touch.

"Don't go," he pleaded as he saw the woman move away.

"Hush, I'm here. Just try and relax, Sergeant Davis. It'll be alright."

The woman returned and Charlie felt something cold and glassy put under his armpit, then his arm was moved so it now rested on his stomach. It took him a rather long moment to figure out it was just a thermometer, and at about the same time he realized the arm on his stomach was just contributing to the feeling of heat. As well as the blanket underneath.

So with one swift move - as far as Charlie could tell at least - he grabbed the blanket and pulled it off, tossing it to the side. Then he proceeded trying to sit up.

"Whoa, where are you going young man?" the woman said as she tried to push him back down.

"Window. 's too hot in here," Charlie grumbled and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Or he tried. One of them didn't want to cooperate. It felt as if it weighed a ton and it was glued to the bed. Charlie grunted in discomfort and confusion as he stared at a white cast that was now adorning his limb.

The woman (Was it a nurse? Was he at the hospital?) used his momentary confusion and manhandled him back into a lying position with a huff.

"Now be a dear and stay in bed," she told him even as she grabbed the thermometer which surprisingly stayed in position.

Her face turned into a frown and Charlie cringed. He didn't want to make anyone unhappy, least of all small women who seemed to possess too much strength and had access to pointy things.

"Sorry," he muttered but it was the wrong thing to do. He took in a bit deeper breath than he planned and started coughing once again.

This time the fit seemed to last an eternity. He felt the nurse rubbing soothing circles over his back, telling him to take in small, shallow breaths, to try and calm down. Somewhere in the back of his mind Charlie knew that after the first few seconds the coughing got worse because he kept panicking. He kept expecting to feel water touch his lips instead of air and so instead of small breaths, he was practically wheezing, gasping. But knowing that didn't help any. Especially when dark spots started entering his vision.

It wasn't until something hard was pressed against his face that Charlie's body reacted in memory of something else. It was as if he was plunged deep under. His lungs froze up, his throat closed. He became utterly still and it felt as if his body had forgotten how to breathe at all. Until the nurse shook him hard, grasping his face in her hand.

Charlie could see the worry in her eyes, despite the black splotches all across his vision.

"_Breathe, Charlie!"_ he heard, but it wasn't the nurse's voice. It was a memory from somewhere dark and cold... a space filled with water and fear.

Charlie breathed, but the darkness of the memory already took over.

He was back in the water, surrounded by darkness and possibly thousands of tons of dirt above his head, just waiting to crumble and bury him alive in his water grave.

He was floating, eyes closed and arms treading water.

It was silent, except for the sound of his own blood pumping loud and clear through his temples.

"No... no, no, no," Charlie muttered, feeling around in the darkness with his arms, encountering walls and debris. "This isn't real. I... I was rescued," he said, sure of that if nothing else. He remembered Hank appearing from the water, he even remembered Blake sitting in a hospital chair by his side. Talking to him.

He was free of this prison... he was rescued!

Or was he not?

Could it be that it was all just a dream? That no one came and he was still stuck there?

Charlie wanted to cry... he wanted to scream.

No, this had to be some sick joke. A nightmare...

Charlie didn't think. He turned around, taking a step towards the nearest wall. Without hesitation he slammed his fist into the wall.

There was pain and he cried out in surprise.

"No, please!"

Charlie sobbed and pushed away from the wall.

This couldn't be right. There was no way he could've hallucinated the last day... no way he could have survived in the cold water for so long. Was it even cold though? The water felt strangely warm. He wasn't even shaking. Yet he remembered the smell and small space around him... remembered the debris blocking his way out. It was all here and it _felt _real.

What now?

Screaming wasn't helping. Charlie felt as if he had been screaming for days now. Maybe that was why his chest hurt, why it was hard to breathe. He just went crazy and screamed so long in hopes someone would hear him.

No one did.

And no one ever would if he didn't at least try and get himself free.

With renewed determination Charlie turned towards the wall of debris. He would try and dig himself out even if it meant bleeding to death from cutting up his hands. It was still a better way to go than wait and starve... or risk going under the water and drown. Charlie didn't want to drown.

So he started removing debris. At first, it were just small boulders. Rocks and dirt kept falling down into the water with a splashing sound. Charlie actually welcomed it as it broke through the silence. Then he reached the larger parts. It took some effort, which left him almost breathless, but Charlie managed to let loose a rather big piece of steel. As it fell into the water and made way, Charlie pushed forward. His arms found a large hole.

"That's it," Charlie muttered as he felt around the opening, hoping to encounter free space behind. He put both his arms through, so deep his shoulders were leaning against the wall of debris, his face half pushed against it uncomfortably. His fingers touched something surprisingly... dry and soft.

Then something curled around both his wrists.

Charlie yelped and instinctively pulled back.

But he couldn't.

His arms were stuck... something curled tight around them. Charlie screamed and pulled. The hold on his wrists tightened, almost cutting off circulation.

'Dear God, please!' Charlie begged, not even able to shout anymore. He struggled so hard but to no avail. He was trapped and he couldn't even cry for help properly without risking some water running into his mouth.

There was no escape.

Charlie gave a keening sound and slumped against the wall of debris... the restraints on his arms currently the only thing holding him up. And wouldn't you know it... even if he wanted to try and risk finding his way back to the surface through the shafts... he couldn't anymore. He was trapped.

The water was getting cold again.

He barely noted it at first, too distracted by his despair. But slowly, the heat he felt from the previous struggle evaporated, leaving him chilled to the bone. He became aware of his soaked through clothes, clinging to his form like a wet blanket and he shuddered. Maybe he could at least get rid of them... or dislodge the shirt from his pants. Maybe he would feel less stifled that way.

Charlie started wiggling, pulling at his arms at the same time.

"Come on," he grunted, but to no avail. The clothes just seemed to wrap around him tighter and water was getting colder.

Charlie let out a frustrated scream. He thought he would go mad before death came.

When he first heard the voice, he was convinced he actually did go crazy.

It was Blake. At first all Charlie could discern was the familiar tone, but even that brought some relief. If he did indeed lose his mind, he would much more happily do it in a company of a friend than in complete silence.

So Charlie listened and the words become clearer. Soothing words, words that weren't making much sense. Why would Blake talk to him as if they were sitting behind the dinner table idly chatting, when Charlie was actually dying, stuck in a mine shaft?

But then, how could Charlie even hear Blake talk if he was alone in the darkness?

It didn't matter though. The voice was a lifeline, one that Charlie wasn't willing to let go. When that lifeline squeezed his hand... the darkness seemed to lighten just a bit.

Another squeeze and the warmth of the touch brushed some of the haze away. Charlie forced his eyes open and squinted.

The darkness was gone and he was back in what he hoped was reality. Because he couldn't handle being thrust back into the mines once more.

"There you are," Blake smiled at him. "Good boy."

Charlie blinked at the praise, his eyes going wider as he tried to grasp his whereabouts. He was in a room that wasn't his own, but that didn't faze him anymore. He wasn't alone. There was Blake and Charlie knew he was real, because he laid his hand on Charlie's face.

"Hey. You with me?"

Charlie grunted, still unable to believe it. He also just noted the mask on his face. That wouldn't do. He didn't want anything stopping him from breathing. He reached up to take off the mask, but his arm was stopped. Charlie looked down and saw the strap. In his mind though it wasn't a strap as much as something hidden in the pile of debris, trapping him under the water.

The dream threatened to permeate the reality once again and Charlie understandably panicked.

"Doc?" Charlie asked, feeling his chest tighten in response. "What-"

"Hush, it's okay. Just calm down."

But that was easier said than done and Charlie wasn't exactly listening. Blake's voice was lost in the sound of rushing water and Charlie couldn't stop the coughs. He felt like drowning once again and despite the familiarity of the feeling, it didn't lessen the horror of it.

"It's okay, just breathe, Charlie," he heard Blake's voice loud and clear, but was still taken aback when he actually felt the straps fall off his arms. Blake helped him into a sitting position, leaning over, his head supported by Blake's shoulder before the fit seemed to cease and he could breathe again. He fell back into the bed, wiped.

Charlie let out a miserable groan and for a while he just tried to get back some of his energy. Then he moved his arms... free of the straps, free of restrain. First thing he needed to do was take off the blasted mask, before he choked. He turned on his side and spat out what was definitely not just water from the mines. The sight and taste was anything but pleasant and when Blake handed him a glass of water, Charlie thought he might hug him from gratitude.

"Here, small sips," Blake told him and Charlie tried to. He really did. But as soon as the cool water touched his lips, he felt the thirst and wondered how he didn't notice it before. Charlie took a few sips, trying to sooth his parched throat, when he felt a tickle in his throat. He pulled in a startled breath and some of the water seemed to go down the wrong pipe.

"Bloody hell," Blake cursed and Charlie could see his desperation to help, but it didn't make a bit of change.

The sensation was so strong that Charlie was pulled back straight into the mines, into the darkness and cold.

'No, please, not this!' Charlie's mind screamed even as he was trying to find his breath and get back to Blake, to wake up. His hands roamed around in panic, until they grasped _something_. Something alive... something warm perhaps. He could almost feel the heartbeat under his touch, when his other hand wrapped around his own chest.

Something ice cold was curled around it... and it moved.

Charlie froze up. Literally. For a second, he didn't breathe, he didn't move a muscle. There it was. A tug around his waist. The rope, Charlie realized. It was still tied around his waist and there was someone coming, pulling himself to Charlie or pulling Charlie towards, he didn't even know.

What he knew though was that it wasn't Hank. There was no light coming from underneath the water... just an eerie bluish glow. There was a shadow behind it and Charlie was _praying_ that it was a person, but... the shape was _wrong_. Another tug and Charlie tasted water. He braced his legs against the floor, but knew it wouldn't help. The shape was almost upon him, the glow brighter and more threatening. Then it finally came out of the water and a soppy, rotten hand reached out, touching him right over his heart.

Charlie yelped and with all his might pushed at the figure, knocking it back a few steps. He stumbled backwards himself, flailing arms barely keeping him above the surface as he tried to get back, away from the figure. His back pushed against the wall of debris and Charlie whimpered as the blockade seemed to give way. He wedged himself inside the opening, realizing only too late that he had trapped himself without a way out, his arms stuck to his side in the even smaller space.

Charlie's breathing came out in ragged gasps but his sole focus was on the figure. It was a man, he could tell that much. Or rather, it looked like a man, but Charlie couldn't see his face. Something was blocking it... something dark.

"What... who are you?" he asked shakily and the figure inclined it's head, listening. Then it reached up and pulled the mask off.

The figure lifted a hand and Charlie was momentarily blinded by a torch... until it made a sweep of the small space he was trapped in, finally being lowered down. Charlie blinked then let out a surprised gasp.

"Hank?"

It was the police diver and Charlie could see that there was nothing wrong with him at all. What he thought were strange appendages were just tubes leading to the oxygen bottles.

"Hank, thank God," Charlie muttered with relief. "Please... help me. I'm stuck and it's so cold..."

But Hank didn't seem to hear him. The man made another sweep of the space with his torch, then let out a disappointed sigh.

Charlie didn't understand. Did he piss the man off so bad he decided to ignore him?

"Hank? Come on, I'm sorry. Please, just... help me!"

Hank didn't react. He shook his head and put the mask back on his face. He turned his back towards Charlie and in that moment Charlie realized he was about to leave.

"No! I'm here!" Charlie shouted, trying to wiggle out of his prison and at the same time catch his breath. "Hank! No! Don't leave me here!"

Whether Hank just didn't hear or whether he chose not to was irrelevant. In a moment Charlie watched with utter horror as his only chance at rescue dove under the water. He watched the figure swim away, taking away his last hope along with the light.

Charlie was once again left in utter darkness and he knew that somehow it was all his fault.

"Please... don't... don't leave me here," he sobbed into the quiet space even as he let himself succumb to it.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N:** Here we come to the final chapter and I want to thank all of you who left a comment to this fic. I hope you will find this ending satisfying and if you have any prompts for future fics, I'm all ears:) _

* * *

Charlie didn't know what sin he committed to have been condemned to this hell. All he knew was that time wasn't real and that he seemed to be trapped between dream and reality. At least he hoped some of this was a dream. It would mean there was at least some chance of finally waking up.

So far, he was either spending an eternity underground, stuck in a flooded mine shaft... or he was lying in a white room, surrounded by strangers, fighting for every breath.

There was a point when he opened his eyes to be blinded by light. He could tell there was no water because his limbs and body felt too heavy. Everything hurt in a way it didn't while he was in the mine. When he woke up in the light, there was no cold water numbing the pain. Only cold blankets and icy things pushed against his armpits and groin. Something soggy and wet lay on his forehead, partially blocking his sight.

There were voices and a strong smell of disinfectant in the air. Charlie couldn't understand what was being said, or even who was speaking. All he could see were blurred figures moving around him. He felt tugging at his arm but he couldn't move. He barely kept his eyes open to a slit and it took a herculean effort to turn his head a bit as he heard his own name.

"_Charlie? Are you with me, lad?"_

Charlie produced a sound that had nothing to do with words. He couldn't even if he wanted to. Something was stuck in his mouth. Something was blocking his airway.

Charlie tried to scream, to call for help. His body tensed and he tried to reach up to get the thing out, but his hands weren't working. Something was holding them down.

The room was suddenly filled with noise and Charlie felt hands all over him, holding him down. Someone was shouting while he was choking. Despite that he still tried to fight back, to free his arms and to get rid of whatever was stuck down his throat.

"_Charlie!_"

Even between all the panic and ruckus Charlie discerned Blake's voice. The tone of worry broke through his struggle, making him pause for a second and look around blindly, searching for a familiar face.

There it was. Leaning right over him, a pair of hands took hold of his face while the man's mouth moved in a pattern.

"_It's okay, I've got you. Don't fight it. You can breathe."_

But Charlie _couldn't._ That was the whole point.

Why was Blake lying to him? Why wasn't he helping?

Charlie shot him a look of betrayal even as the edges of his vision started going dark. He saw Blake physically cringe, but the man didn't let go. He still held Charlie's face in his hands, the warm touch keeping him in this reality. Despite the fact he couldn't breathe and he should have been dead already.

Charlie frowned.

He felt his chest move on its own volition and while it hurt, his lungs weren't screaming for air. Not like when he went under water. He _was_ breathing, albeit not on his own.

Charlie grunted, then winced at the feeling of discomfort it brought.

What the hell was going on?

Blake seemed to read the question in his eyes, though before answering, he glanced to the side towards someone else. Charlie wanted to scream and throw a bloody temper tantrum. He needed some answers. He needed things to make sense.

But they didn't and as a warm feeling moved up from his left arm towards his chest, Charlie was losing even last bits of clarity. He tried to cling onto them, but the stress left his body and his mind was closely following. Charlie saw a look of relief cross over Blake's face as his eyes closed. Finally... there was nothing waiting for him in the darkness. No water, no monsters. Only sweet bliss of unconsciousness.

* * *

Someone was gently cradling their fingers through his hair and humming a familiar tune absentmindedly. It took a bit of time for Charlie's mind to catch up. First, it was just a song he knew penetrating the darkness, but soon it became something he could follow into the light.

His eyes opened to slits. He frowned. His eyelids felt heavy and the light was too bright at first. Charlie let out an involuntary groan, which in turn made him wince in pain. His throat felt raw and sore as if there was something...

Charlie remembered the feeling of a tube down his throat, the feeling of choking. His hand went up towards his mouth instinctively... but there was nothing. Not even the oxygen mask. His arms moved freely as well, at least the right one. Charlie could still feel a line sneaking from his left arm, but he didn't care. There were no restraints.

"Charlie? Are you awake this time?" A woman's voice asked and Charlie's attention was back to the fingers that had just left his hair. He rubbed at his eyes then blinked owlishly at the blurry face leaning nearby.

"Mom?" he asked, unable to hide his surprise.

Shirley Davis was sitting in the chair by his bed, giving him that relieved smile full of love.

"Oh Charlie, you _are_ awake. Finally!" She couldn't help it, she leaned over and gave Charlie a hug and Charlie returned it feebly. He could barely hold up his arms long enough and as soon as she let go, he let them fall by his side. Even this small gesture made him feel tired, but he wasn't about to fall asleep on his mom without some answers.

"What..." Charlie grimaced, clearing his throat. His voice was rough and even though his chest felt a bit better, like the elephant sitting there previously had given way to a German shepherd instead, talking seemed to be a chore.

"Sh, don't talk too much. Here," she poured him a glass of water and helped him take a few sips. The action seemed familiar, even the muttered "Slowly, Charlie."

"What... happened?" Charlie asked once he had enough and his curiosity beat the discomfort. His mom fidgeted on her seat and turned around, as if expecting someone to pop out and save her from an answer. But the room was empty.

"Mom?" Charlie pressed on and his mother sighed, then rested her hand on his.

"I was hoping Dr. Blake could answer all your questions, but he had left a short while ago to talk to your boss I think."

Charlie frowned. Had Blake been around all this time? How much time even passed and why the hell did they call his mother when he was alright? Charlie had so many questions, but very little energy to articulate them all. Not to mention, most of those questions definitely weren't aimed at his mother.

"Do you remember the lost boy?" Shirley started hesitantly when it was obvious no one was coming and that Charlie indeed wanted some answers.

Charlie nodded. How could he forget? His left hand clenched into a fist until he felt the discomfort from the needle piercing his skin. Instead he relaxed the grip and turned up his right palm so that he could give a small but reassuring squeeze to his mom. That helped.

"What... what's the last thing you remember?" she asked and Charlie grimaced.

The last thing he remembered was the darkness and taste of water on his lips. Last thing he felt was choking on something in the hospital bed, the darkness and the quiet.

There were glimpses of moments here at the hospital. Being unable to move, feeling like his skin would freeze and at the same time burn. Needles and tubes and strangers moving him here and there. He remembered the fear as well as the soothing voices, telling him it was going to be alright. That he just needed to fight and hold on.

He also remembered being back inside the mines, feeling the awful cold and terror as Hank vanished under the surface, leaving him behind. There were flashes from fever dreams involving monsters and things that dwelled under the surface, just waiting for him to falter. Charlie shuddered at the mere thought of those dreams. Or at the memory of how _real _they felt at the moment.

None of these things were fit to tell his mother however.

"I think... Mrs. Beazley visited," Charlie said, a bit unsure. "She brought... cookies?"

His mother gave him a small smile.

"That was three days ago, Charlie," she said and Charlie blinked, sure that he misheard.

"What?"

His mother caressed his cheek and Charlie could see how tired she looked.

"I don't..." he shook his head and looked around the room he was in. He couldn't tell if it was the same one where they brought him in, but there was definitely more stuff around. There was another chair in the corner of the room, with a spare blanket and a familiar coat hanging by the door.

"Three days?" he couldn't believe that.

"We thought we might lose you," his mother said sadly and Charlie reached up to squeeze her hand.

"I'm fine, mom," he tried to reassure her.

"I know, I know. But... when I returned home and Bernie told me what happened... I called Dr. Blake's house right away. Miss Beazley told me you were safe but I still... I still had that bad feeling. So I booked a ticket here."

She reached up and wiped at her eyes and Charlie cursed silently. This is why he didn't want Lawson to call his mom. She didn't need to worry about him.

"I'm sorry, mom," Charlie said, his voice cracking. He carefully cleared his throat and prayed that he wouldn't get a coughing fit. If the feeling of soreness around his ribs was any indication, it would not be pleasant.

"Oh baby, you have nothing to apologize for," Shirley sniffled, patting Charlie's arm and fumbled with his blanket. "Do you need anything? Maybe I should call the nurse and tell her you're awake, or Dr. Blake... he should've been back by now, of all the times to leave-" she was already standing up, ready to call someone, when Charlie grabbed her arm and gently pulled her to sit back down.

"Mom, please... just stay," he said and grimaced as he tried to sit up a bit. His head swam and he felt a strange pain in his stomach, one that indicated he truly didn't have anything to eat for a few days. He wondered if any of Jean's cookies were left behind.

"How... how is the family? Do they..." Charlie really hoped they weren't there as well. He hoped they didn't even know what happened, definitely not with how things were between him and Ray lately. Charlie just didn't feel like giving his brother the chance to tell him "I told you so" or "This is what you get for leaving us".

"Ah, your brothers are fine. Bernie's taking care of them," Shirley said with a small smile and Charlie forced back the urge to cringe. He didn't like Bernie and it was a sore point at every family meeting. But bringing it up now would be pointless and it would only hurt his mother. Seeing the circles under her eyes and the worry etched into her face, Charlie concluded he had hurt her enough already.

"Good, that's... good," he said with a sigh, then rolled his eyes. "Three days," he muttered, unable to believe it. "God, Lawson will kill me."

"He would have to go through me first," Shirley said fiercely and Charlie chuckled. While in theory he would be rather curious about the outcome, he didn't really want to see it happen.

"It's okay, mom. Don't kill the boss," he said with a grin that turned into a yawn. "Still so tired," he grumbled, feeling just a hint of panic at the thought of falling asleep.

"You're recovering from an ordeal, dear. You need to rest."

Charlie grunted something that didn't make sense even to him. His eyes slipped closed for a second, but he shook his head and opened them.

"How's Kyle?" he asked and felt his mother's hand once again cradling through his hair in a soothing pattern. He knew that pattern... she used to do this when he was a child... before Ray was born. When he couldn't fall asleep and crawled into his parent's bed, she kept running her fingers through his hair and humming softly until he drifted off.

Charlie frowned, but couldn't find the energy or the will to pull away. He wasn't a child anymore anyway. This won't work on him...

"The boy you saved is alright," his mother spoke softly, lowering her tone. "He wants to meet you once you feel up to it."

"Mhm," Charlie mumbled, his eyes already closed. When she started humming, he knew he was lost.

* * *

The last week had been hell on everyone. Well, mostly on Charlie, though the lad didn't truly remember the first three days after his rescue. At least, Blake really hoped so.

Blake still felt sick to his stomach when he remembered how close Charlie came to dying. The chest infection was bad, causing his lungs to fill up with fluids. Blake thought the water in the mines must've had something toxic in it. In any case, Charlie was practically drowning once again and at one point, they had to intubate him. Blake thought back on the look of horror on Charlie's face when he came to at the most inappropriate moment. He was glad the drugs knocked him out quickly at least. The fever they fought was almost as bad an enemy, though they managed to keep it at bay with cold compresses. It was still ironic how the thing that caused Charlie's ailment in the first place - cold water - was used in one form to keep him alive.

Blake shook his head. There was no sense in thinking about it. Charlie was finally on the mend, ready to be discharged within few days. Luckily, the antibiotics did they job, albeit it took them a while to kick in properly.

Blake was in high spirits though. Since Charlie's fever came down to a level that was mostly just a nuisance now, Blake felt at ease of going home without having to worry about a phone call. It meant he had managed to catch up on some sleep and even found the time to stop by at the station to check if there were any new cases requiring his assistance. There weren't but Lawson was in better spirits as well. They talked about the mines and how the current owner was fined for not securing the entrance enough. At the moment there were already workers closing up all the accessible shafts from unwanted visitors. Due to the accident going public, Lawson felt there was a danger in other kids trying to go there on a dare or just to look around the site, so he decided to put a man to safeguard the site until the works were done. That man ended up being no one else than constable Jeff Harrison.

Blake wasn't sure if Lawson was trying to punish the young man for whatever reason. After all, Jeff didn't really disobey any command, seeing as it was Charlie who went down for the boy. When Blake asked Lawson, the man just shrugged.

"He volunteered."

Blake raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Really?"

Lawson's jaw clenched and the edge of his mouth quirked up in a short smirk.

"Well, I gave him a choice. He could've been quietly organizing our archives for the next week or go out. For some reason, he jumped at the chance to patrol the area."

"I wonder why," Blake said with a barely hidden grin and chuckle. "Surely he isn't out there all the time though?"

"Of course not. He's sharing a shift with few other coppers who seem to have trouble following orders." Matthew said, while innocently looking through some papers.

"Charlie is lucky then that he won't be coming back before the works are done. I doubt he would appreciate being sent out to patrol the mines."

At that Lawson looked up, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh no, I wouldn't _dream_ to send Davis out there. I want him right under my nose for the next month. Sitting his ass behind that desk... or in the archives."

Blake cringed a bit, expecting that the dinner conversations will become rather stinted, what with both men residing under his roof. Then he realized something.

"A month you said?"

Lawson grumbled in affirmative, pretending to find something very interesting in a file that sat on his desk for the most part of the day untouched.

"Ah, what a coincidence. Seeing as Charlie will be bound to desk duty for at least that long," Blake said with a smirk and received a quick glare.

"Well... I can hardly _punish_ our local _hero_ now, can I? I wanted to wring his neck for what he did, but Kyle's parents would have wrung mine." Lawson said, sounding put out, but Blake could see behind the facade.

"This way you can keep an eye on him," he commented with a knowing grin.

Lawson glared at him more.

"Get lost, Blake," he said finally with a sigh. "I have work to do."

So Blake left, a small grin still set on his lips as he headed towards the hospital.

The grin and good mood lasted up until the moment he entered Charlie's room. Blake knew Charlie. He had seen him hurt or sick before and every time he bounced back quickly. Or at least he tried to and pretended all was well with the world, even if the opposite was true. So finding him now fast asleep only a few minutes after lunch was a bit concerning.

Charlie's chart showed that he still had an elevated temperature, but nothing to be concerned of at this point. His breathing was getting better, and the leg was healing up nicely. Blake would have expected Charlie to be trying to sneak out at this point, or at the least keep bouncing on the bed from boredom. But even the nurses reported that they had to wake him up for lunch and for some breathing therapy before. That meant that either there was something else ailing Charlie or the experience took a lot more out of him than they realized.

Well, there was no point in just standing there and watching him sleep. While Blake would definitely recommend sleeping as a medicine, Charlie also needed to get up a few times a day to help his lungs work properly. Based on the chart he wasn't up enough times and was due for some sitting up and moving around.

Stepping closer to the sleeping figure, Blake cleared his throat. He didn't want to startle Charlie and knew giving a warning about his presence was the least he could do.

Charlie's brows furrowed and his eyes slipped open a bit.

"Hello, Charlie," Blake said calmly and waited for Charlie to get hold of his bearings.

"Uh... Doc?" he said, blinking heavily. "What... what's the time?"

"Just past one in the afternoon. I've stopped by to check on you from my way from the station."

Charlie looked at him groggily, then pushed himself up into a sitting position, grimacing as that started a small coughing fit. Blake waited him out, handing him some tissues. At least Charlie seemed to be awake now.

"The station? Any cases?" Charlie inquired once his breathing settled.

"Nah, nothing more than a shoplifting or drunken drivers. Matthew is getting quite bored."

Charlie's lips quirked into a grin.

"And you're too?"

Blake managed to put on an affronted look.

"Why, I do love me some peace and quiet around here," he said with a straight face and Charlie chuckled.

"Sure you do." Charlie yawned and Blake frowned.

"Are you feeling alright, Charlie?" he asked, already reaching out and putting his palm on Charlie's forehead then neck. Charlie grumbled and tried to shake him off, but it was only a half assed attempt.

"I'm good, Doc. Just... tired of this all."

Blake gave him a dubious look.

"I want to go home, that's all."

"You will soon. But if there is any problem, let me know, okay?"

Charlie looked up at him and for a moment Blake thought he would say what was bothering him. But then there was a flash of doubt and something that looked like embarrassment crossed Charlie's face and Blake knew he won't get an answer right then. He sighed.

"Any time, Charlie."

"Thanks Doc, I... appreciate it. I'm fine, really."

Blake nodded.

"In that case... I do have a surprise for you."

Charlie's eyes widened.

"Surprise?"

"Yes. What would you say for a bit of a stroll outside in the gardens?"

Charlie blinked, then threw a glance towards his casted leg.

"Ugh... I'm getting used to the crutches, but..." Charlie's face went a bit red, no doubt thinking about how he was saved from a fall the day ago by a petite nurse.

"Well, good thing then someone had invented a wheelchair already," Blake said with a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, after some cumbersome manoeuvring and a nurse fussing over making sure that Charlie had his blanket and was warm enough (Blake noticed it was the same red haired nurse that caught Charlie's fall before), they had finally made it outside.

At first, Charlie seemed a bit uncomfortable, especially with the blanket folded over him.

"What's wrong?"

"I look like an old invalid," he grumbled and Blake snorted.

"Trying to impress the young ladies?" he raised an eyebrow and Charlie's face went red. He fussed with the edge of the blanket and ignored the question. Blake took pity on him and let it go. Instead he started pushing Charlie towards a small pond at the end of the garden. It was a bit further away, but Blake knew Charlie would appreciate the fresh air and the relative privacy it offered.

"I almost forgot. Your mom called earlier today to let us know she arrived safely home. And to tell you that the whole family is sending their best wishes and Mickey is willing to give up his room for you when you come visit."

Charlie snorted.

"Mickey's room is a pigsty," he explained. "Not to mention... he's the Casanova of the family. I know Ray had caught him trying to slip a girl into his room several times now. I'm definitely not sleeping on that mattress."

The look of disgust on Charlie's face made Blake laugh.

"Ah, I don't know about that. Do you want me to call your mother and tell her you require a different sleeping arrangement?"

"Dear God, no. She doesn't need to know that... she still thinks Mickey is her little baby angel." Charlie shuddered and Blake was sure it wasn't from the cold. "That boy had more girlfriends than me and Ray combined."

Blake snorted.

"Well, if that's true I hope he's at least taking proper precautions. Maybe you should have a talk with him?"

Charlie sighed.

"I'm pretty sure Ray already took care of that," he said, looking a bit troubled by the thought. "I'm not sure I'll be going home though."

"Why not?" Blake frowned. He would've thought Charlie would grab at the chance to go home for a few days, especially after seeing him with his mother the last three days. The boy loved his mother dearly, that was obvious. He looked relaxed with her around. Blake noted that the circles under his eyes became more pronounced since Shirley left... and that was only a day ago.

"I'm not sure I want to stay cooped up in the house with Bernie," Charlie admitted, though Blake could see there was something else he wasn't saying. There was no sense in pushing though. If Charlie didn't want to talk, he wouldn't... not where his family was concerned.

"Ah well... whatever you decide. If you don't feel like travelling, you know the house is always open for your family to come for a visit."

"Thank you," Charlie said after a moment of silence and Blake squeezed his shoulder, seeing the appreciation in his eyes.

"Charlie!" there was a sudden call and they both turned towards the voice.

It was Kyle Bradley, followed by his parents who looked a bit put out.

"Kyle! It's Sergeant Davis!" The mother berated him, even as the boy caught up with them and was now looking at Charlie sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant-" he started to apologize, but Charlie waved him off with a smile.

"That's okay, I told you to call me Charlie. Hey Kyle. Mr. and Mrs. Bradley?" Charlie looked up at them and it was clear he felt a bit awkward. Especially when Mrs. Bradley leaned down and hugged him without a warning.

"Ah, we wanted to thank you so much, Sergeant Davis! You don't know what it means to us that you found Kyle!"

"Uh, it's... you're quite welcome," Charlie stuttered while Jack Bradley pulled his wife away gently.

"Let the man breathe, darling," he said, even though for a moment it looked as if he wanted to hug Charlie as well. Instead they ended up shaking hands, while Kyle was nervously watching them.

It was obvious the boy wanted to talk to Charlie alone and Blake knew Charlie well enough that he noted he was getting uncomfortable by all the attention.

"I have an idea. Why don't we let Kyle and Charlie check out the ducks at the pond? And we can go sit down over there and have a bit of a chat."

Mrs. Bradley seemed to hesitate, but Mr. Bradley gave a quick nod.

"That's a splendid idea."

"Great. Now Kyle... do you think you can handle navigating that chair?"

Kyle's eyes widened in excitement.

"I can push it? Cool!"

"Just... stay away from the water, okay?" Mrs. Bradley called out after them worriedly when Kyle took up the challenge and started pushing Charlie away. For his part, Charlie looked just a tad uncertain. Blake gave him a wink, then turned towards the parents.

"So, tell me... how is Kyle doing?"

All three of them settled down at the nearby benches, while keeping their eyes at the duo heading towards the pond. Blake could've sworn he heard a sigh of relief from Jack when Kyle parked the wheelchair at a safe distance from the water. He wouldn't lie, he felt his shoulders relax a bit as well.

"He's... handling things well, I suppose," Eileen Bradley was the first to speak.

"But there are some problems?" Blake hazarded a guess.

Eileen bit at her lip and her hands fidgeted with her purse.

"He has nightmares."

"That's to be expected," Blake spoke after a moment of silence.

"Yes. But... they aren't just about what happened to him."

Blake frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Jack sighed and ran his hand over his hair.

"Kyle took it hard... what happened to Sergeant Davis. He blames himself. We tried to explain that the Sergeant was just doing his job, but... he doesn't believe us."

"He kept waking up screaming and we thought..." Eileen jumped in nervously. "We thought he was dreaming about the fall or spending the night there."

"That wasn't it?" Blake asked, encouraging the parents to talk. Kyle and Charlie definitely weren't the only ones affected by the event it seemed.

"No. He thought the Sergeant was dead. That he died trying to save him and we couldn't convince him that he was alive and well."

That might've indeed been a chore, seeing as Charlie was far from well for the first few days after the accident. And because of the publicity of the event, the hospital ensured that Charlie had no outside visitors. Especially after they caught one of Edward Tyneman's men sneaking into Charlie's room, taking a picture. Luckily, Lawson was just coming for a visit and quickly disposed of the camera and let the journalist cool down in the cell for the night, threatening Tyneman with the same approach if he didn't relent.

Charlie had changed rooms then and was allowed no visitors except for family and a few approved people. Which also meant that Kyle and his family had little chance to see him.

"We are really grateful that we could arrange this meeting, Dr. Blake."

Eileen reached out and squeezed his hand.

Blake nodded, suddenly happy that he picked up the ringing phone that morning and agreed to the meeting, despite his initial doubts.

"I'm happy it could be arranged as well. As long as it will help Kyle," and maybe Charlie as well, he added in his mind.

They kept talking a bit longer... about how Kyle handled school, about the family having to fend off the reporters as well until Lawson stepped in and made sure they were off limits. Blake made a mental note to discuss the matter with Matthew that evening. The man didn't even mention that the Bradleys also had some trouble or how exactly did he handle it.

Barely ten minutes passed when Blake's attention was pulled towards the pond. Charlie had just got caught in a rather nasty coughing fit. Blake saw Kyle looking up worriedly, even as Charlie waved his hand in a calming gesture. Blake still stood up, decided to check on the duo. He excused himself, telling the parents he will just have a quick talk with Charlie and Kyle, hoping they won't follow. He was sure Charlie would've hated the extra attention.

It looked like the coughing fit was over before Blake even stood up, but he would rather err on the side of caution. Not to mention, Kyle looked just a bit forlorn.

He walked up towards the bench where the boy sat, Charlie parked in a chair right next to it. Blake stopped a few meters farther though, as he heard the boy's words.

"I'm sorry you got sick, Charlie," Kyle said, eyes downcast.

"That's not your fault, Kyle. It..." Charlie cleared his throat, then continued, sounding a bit more himself. "It was just an accident."

"No. It was me, being stupid and a coward," Kyle berated himself, kicking angrily at a rock that rolled down to the pond.

"You're not stupid and definitely not a coward. Kyle?" Charlie reached out, patting the boy's shoulder to make him look at him. "Why would you say that?"

Kyle shrugged.

"If I was braver... I could've climbed out. You wouldn't have fallen."

"Ah... so... you could've just climbed out? With... a broken arm?" Charlie looked at the casted arm doubtfully.

"No... I mean... maybe? I should've tried?"

Charlie shook his head.

"No. You could've fallen instead. You did the right thing. You waited for help."

"But you could've died because of me."

Charlie sighed and Blake wanted to walk up to them just then because he could see how tired Charlie was. But Charlie looked around and caught his sight. For a second he stared at Blake, then gave a small shake of his head. Blake took a step back... yet he stayed within earshot, ready to step in if needed.

"Kyle? Look at me, please," Charlie said and Kyle did, although he sniffled.

"I won't tell you that going out there wasn't stupid or dangerous. It was. But... you didn't intend for any of this to happen and I bet you won't do anything like this ever again. Am I right?"

Kyle gave a fervent nod.

"I swear I won't go near the mines ever again."

"Or run away without telling anyone where you are?"

Kyle grimaced at that, but gave another nod.

"Good," Charlie smiled, ruffling the boy's hair. "I actually think it was very smart of you to wait for help. And very brave."

At that Kyle pulled away, shaking his head.

"I wasn't brave. I wish people would stop saying that!"

"Why?" Charlie frowned.

"Because! I... I was so _scared!_ I still am!" Kyle said almost in a hiss as he leaned down and grabbed a small rock to throw into the pond. He glared at the cast on his arm which was full of drawings and well wishes. "This. You see this?"

Charlie looked at the cast, seeming a bit lost.

"Yeah."

"It's... all those kids at school. They... they think it was so cool! They keep asking me what it was like to spend the night there... asking about ghosts of dead miners. If I thought I would die."

Blake shuddered. Those weren't questions he would've wanted to face after a situation like that.

"Now... if you ask me what's stupid," Charlie started after a second and waited until Kyle looked at him wondering. "It's those kids. Asking that stuff."

Kyle gave it a thought then nodded.

"Yeah. I wish they'd stop. But..." he looked away, ashamed. "It's nice to be cool, you know?"

Charlie smiled.

"Sure. Nothing wrong with that."

"It is... if they think I am brave. But I'm not. I'm just a coward."

Charlie frowned.

"Why do you think so?"

Kyle shrugged, then sighed.

"I can't sleep without the light on. I keep having nightmares and... sometimes... it's hard to figure out."

"What is?" Charlie asked, though his own voice seemed a bit uncertain.

"What is real."

There was silence and Kyle fidgeted on the bench, for a moment nudging at the edge of his cast before making up the courage and looking at Charlie.

"I told you I am stupid!"

"No... no, you're not," Charlie said, then rubbed at the bridge of his nose as if chasing away a headache. Blake really debated whether to step in or not but he figured if Charlie wanted an out he would've just looked at him and acknowledged his presence.

"Can you tell me what you meant? By things not being real?"

Kyle hesitated, but he looked at Charlie's face and quite possibly saw the same thing as Blake. Understanding and a wish to help.

"Sometimes... when it's dark and quiet at night... I feel like I'm still there. Like I didn't get out at all and I start screaming. Then... then I wake up. But if it's dark in the room, I... I just can't tell the difference."

Kyle rubbed at his eyes, fighting away tears. Charlie put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"But then mom or dad come in and hug me and I know I'm home and safe. They keep telling me I am safe and that I am their little brave boy and I just..." Kyle shook his head. "I don't feel brave at all."

Charlie nodded and looked up, catching Blake's eyes. There was something in Charlie's eyes... a momentary hesitation, before Blake saw that a decision was made. Charlie focused back on Kyle, as if Blake wasn't at a hearing distance.

"Can I tell you a secret, Kyle?"

Kyle perked up, giving Charlie a confused look with a nod.

"I was scared too."

Kyle frowned.

"You didn't look scared when you helped me."

"Oh, believe me, I was scared right then. I was scared that I would mess up and you would get hurt. I was scared of my Boss finding out that I disobeyed his order," Charlie said with a smirk that enticed a chuckle from Kyle. "But... I'm talking about afterwards. When I... when I was down there. Alone in the dark and cold."

The smile slipped off Kyle's face and his shoulders tensed.

"I'm not blaming you, Kyle. That's not why I'm telling you this, do you understand?"

Kyle gave a hesitant nod.

"I just wanted you to know it is okay that you were afraid. It... it most likely kept you alive. Just like it helped me to stay alive."

"I don't understand," Kyle admitted.

"Down there... I was trapped in a small space with air. I couldn't see and I didn't know if help was coming. I was really scared and I... I wanted to go out and try to find my way back. But I didn't. I trusted someone was coming and I waited. Just like you did. I think... I think you can't think of it as being a coward, just being... cautious."

Kyle thought it over.

"Yes, but... that was then. I bet you aren't waking up screaming in the middle of the night now."

"Well... no, I'm not," Charlie admitted and Kyle grunted. "But... that's just because I don't really sleep at night."

Kyle looked up, frowning.

"What do you mean?"

This time it was Charlie who hesitated and even shot a look towards Blake. Blake wasn't sure if he was asking for a rescue or if he wanted Blake to leave. In either case, Blake didn't budge. Instead, he gave Charlie a pointed look, indicating that he wanted to hear what was going to be said. Charlie sighed.

"You know that I'd been sick for a few days, right?"

"Yeah. I couldn't see you because of that and I thought... I thought you were dead. That they were all just lying to me."

"What? No. I was... I was just... a bit out of my mind, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't sure what was real either. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in the shaft. So yeah, I understand your nightmares."

"But... did it get better? What did you do to make it stop?"

"Well, not being so sick helped a bit," Charlie said with a grin. "But... I found out sleeping during the day helps me too. Hearing other people around, having some light in the room... those are all reminders that the nightmares aren't real."

"Yeah but... we can't keep sleeping during the day. I would love to, but mum would kill me. What about school? Or your work?" Kyle shook his head, already seeing the pitfalls of the plan.

"I know, I know. Not my brightest plan," Charlie admitted with a smile. "But I think we just have to take it step by step. Maybe tonight... I will ask the nurse to leave the door open on my room. Maybe it will be enough to let me sleep."

Kyle nodded, all serious.

"You do that. I wanna talk to you and I can't do that if you're asleep."

Charlie chuckled.

"Don't worry. I have a feeling things will get better soon. Until then... there's no shame in a lit night lamp. And if anyone would dare make fun of you for it, just... tell them to come talk to me if they have a problem."

Kyle gave a serious nod, then a cheeky grin appeared on his face.

"Can I say it to mom and dad too?"

Charlie looked confused.

"Are they making fun of you?" he asked in disbelief.

"No," Kyle shook his head, then sighed. "But they had grounded me."

The sigh was so melodramatic as only a child could do and Blake had to force down a chuckle. Charlie didn't have that much self control.

"Ah, sorry kid. I think your parents are immune against my charms. Not to mention... I am kind of grounded too. You wouldn't leave me alone now, would you?"

"You are?" Kyle asked in open wonder. "How long?"

"If my Boss had any say in it, I think it would be indefinitely," Charlie said with a smirk. "But let's hope it's just until the cast comes off."

Remembering the earlier talk he had with Lawson, Blake sincerely doubted that would be the case, but decided to leave Charlie his hopes. He took a few steps, leaving the two to move from the heartfelt topics onto something easier, while he mulled over what he heard.

So that was the culprit behind Charlie's tired look. He couldn't sleep during the night and his sleep kept getting interrupted during the day. Blake wondered how come the nurses didn't notice and make a note on Charlie's chart, though he had a feeling he either managed to charm them or... what was more likely... he pretended to be asleep each time they stopped by. Well... he would have to make sure there would be no more pretence.

* * *

Charlie had to admit, he was surprised. He expected Blake to tear into him the moment Kyle and his family left. Or even once they were back in Charlie's hospital room, with Charlie settled on the bed, trying to hide his yawn. Man, but he was tired.

Blake didn't say a word however and Charlie started to wonder if the man even heard him. Maybe he was too far away and the conversation passed by him. Charlie didn't know whether to be thankful or disappointed at that.

Maybe he should just ask? But then, what would be the point? What if Blake really did hear the conversation and decided not to say anything... because there was nothing to be said?

All that thinking made Charlie's head throb and he closed his eyes.

"It was good of you to help out the boy," Blake spoke all of a sudden and Charlie startled. He almost forgot about the man's presence.

"Hm? I... anyone would've gone there to help."

"I'm not talking about the rescue, but about today. What you told him."

"Oh." So Blake did hear. And he wanted to talk about it?

"He... he shouldn't be ashamed of things."

"No. And neither should you."

Charlie blinked, suddenly unsure where to look. Blake's gaze felt like it was burning a hole into his heart though and he had to look up.

"You heard all of it?" he asked, wanting to make sure.

"I think so. Why didn't you tell anyone you were having trouble sleeping Charlie?"

Charlie shrugged.

"What... tell the nurse to leave the light on? Because otherwise I keep thinking I'm still stuck underground, left alone to die in the cold? Or should I have asked someone to stay and keep me company?" Charlie shook his head. None of those seemed as plausible options.

Blake stayed silent and Charlie grit his teeth.

"Do you think I'm a coward?" he asked, unable to hold it in any longer.

"No. I definitely don't think that." Blake settled down on the edge of Charlie's bed, facing him. "Would you think I am a coward for being scared of small closed spaces?"

Charlie blinked at the out of the blue question.

"What? No. Of course not."

Blake nodded.

"But I am afraid. And do you think I don't wake up in the middle of the night, covered in cold sweat?"

"Doc... I don't understand."

"I'm just trying to say... I know what you're going through, Charlie. I'd been in a POW camp in Singapore. I spent 40 days in a hole in the ground. I thought I would go crazy. Some men did."

Charlie blinked, feeling his stomach clench in sympathy. 40 days. He couldn't even imagine. 40 days in isolation... knowing he could be killed at any moment. Maybe even wishing for death, just for it all to be over. And here he was, feeling sorry for himself because he spent a few hours in a shaft. Without anyone holding a gun to his head.

All these thoughts were running through his mind and it must've shown, because Blake grasped his chin.

"Charlie?" he looked at him with concern and regret.

"I didn't tell you this to feel bad for me."

Charlie shook his head.

"I shouldn't... shouldn't complain. I know it's stupid, it can't compare to what you went through-"

"Hey! That's NOT what I was saying. Our experiences were different and they can't be compared. I don't wish that hell on my worst enemy just like I'm sure you don't wish what you went through on anyone else. Am I right?"

Charlie nodded, feeling a bit lost... then a bit hopeful.

"How... how did you get through it, Doc?"

After all, if Blake could deal with something like that, Charlie might be able to as well.

Blake sighed and let his hand fall back to the edge of the bed.

"It took a bit of time," he admitted. "And lots of alcohol."

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"Which I don't recommend if you want to keep your job. Or life. I'm sure Matthew and Jean would cure you out of the idea. Or the first good hangover would."

Charlie didn't know if he should laugh or cry.

"What do you recommend then, Doctor Blake?" he asked, letting some of the desperation drip into his voice.

"Patience. And letting your friends help."

Charlie ran his tongue over dry lips. This advice, while sound, didn't seem to offer an instantaneous cure.

"I wish it could be easier," he sighed and leaned back on his bed, feeling the weariness overcome him. Blake patted his leg and stood up.

"It will be. Just give it time. And don't be afraid to ask for help."

"Help?" Charlie said, as if trying out the word. Blake smiled.

"I have to go now, take care of some business. Why don't you try and catch up on sleep?"

Charlie hummed in response. Blake was almost by the door when Charlie opened his eyes.

"Doc?"

Blake paused and turned back.

"Yes, Charlie?"

"How... how did you know to look for me?"

Blake seemed a bit confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I was pretty sure I won't make it. How... how did you know I was still alive?"

Charlie knew it was a stupid question, mostly driven by his sleepy mind. Of course they couldn't know.

"I knew because I know you, Charlie. And you are no quitter."

Charlie wasn't sure what to say to that. Because he remembered how many times he _wanted_ to quit. Just dive under the surface and give up. He must've said it out loud or Blake was a mind reader.

"You didn't quit, Charlie. And that's what counts."

Blake left Charlie alone with his thoughts. Charlie gave them only little space though. Sleep sounded like a better solution.

It was several hours later when he was woken up by the nurse.

"Dinner time, Mr. Davis," said Lillian and put the tray on his lap before he could even properly wake up. "And here. Dr. Blake stopped by a short time ago. He wanted to make sure you'll have this tonight."

Charlie frowned. Lillian was handing him a small package.

"What's in it?" he asked a bit dumbfounded and earned an eye roll.

"And how would I know? I don't have a tendency to open other people's mail. Now stop dillydallying and eat your dinner. The package can wait."

"Yes, madam," Charlie answered respectfully and ate a spoonful of mashed potatoes. As soon as Lillian gave a satisfied nod and left the room, he put the spoon down and pushed the tray away.

He took the package and for a moment just looked at it. Then he gave it a shake, like a kid trying to figure out what Christmas present was hiding under the wrapping. Charlie snorted.

He was acting ridiculous. Though... he was vary to open unknown packages due to his police training. But the nurse said this was from the Doc, right?

Charlie let out a sigh, annoyed at himself. Then he ripped into the paper.

When he saw the box underneath, he stopped. Then blinked.

It was a portable radio. One of those fancy ones... that could almost fit inside his palm. Underneath the wrapping he found a note written in familiar script.

"For dark nights to keep you company. Use wisely."

Charlie chuckled. He was pretty sure the note was to warn him from nurse Lillian. He didn't care. He pulled the small radio out of the package and turned on the knob. The sound of music filled the room. Charlie pulled the tray back and started on his dinner with a much better spirit. He asked for help, and even though it was just a small step, he did receive it. Maybe tonight that simple gesture could chase away the nightmares.

**The End**


End file.
